


Wheels Set In Motion

by WroughtBetwixt



Series: A Gamble At Terrible Odds [4]
Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: ASPD, Addiction recovery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Attempted Murder, Break Up, Brother Feels, Brotherly Affection, Campbell Isn't The Dad, Canonical Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Execution, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Issues, Gay Sex, Ho Yay, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Parallel Universes, Paranormal, Past Rape/Non-con, Poisoning, Political Campaigns, Rape Aftermath, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slash, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse, Supernatural Elements, Survival, Teen Pregnancy, Trapped, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WroughtBetwixt/pseuds/WroughtBetwixt
Summary: As the situation in New Ham takes a dark, mysterious turn, Campbell is faced with a threat he never saw coming. With few allies and the past coming back to haunt him, he is forced to deal with a world that is crumbling fast, and choices with grim consequences.
Relationships: Campbell Eliot/Elle Tomkins, Harry Bingham/Campbell Eliot
Series: A Gamble At Terrible Odds [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1392832
Comments: 29
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is part four of a series. Reading the first three parts is more-or-less essential.
> 
> This is a canon divergent storyline for Campbell, using (in my experience) a realistic take on conduct disorder and ASPD instead of Hollywood "psychopath" stereotypes. While people with conduct disorder can be violent and abusive, the diagnosis exists on a spectrum, and neither ASPD nor "psychopathy" should be diagnosed before the age of 18. Campbell's power will be more in his ability to manipulate-- not "being crazy". Hopefully I can succeed in presenting a more understandable and less sensationalized vision of his behavior. Please note that while I present his relationships as unhealthy and his behavior as questionable, I don't intend to make him a violent abuser, to bring his character more in line with my experiences of how an emotionally neglected teen with moderately reduced empathy would behave, provided they were trying to be better (and seeking outside help).
> 
> AO3 updates will be on Sunday, unless otherwise noted! Head on over to [my tumblr](https://wroughtbetwixtfanfic.tumblr.com/) to get story statuses, notices of delay, and to learn more about my writing. :) Thank you for reading, and leaving kudos/comments. They matter so much to me. <3

A day passed, then two.  
  
Grizz was gracious enough to take care of Campbell. He kept an eye on him when he could, making sure to let him have time to go to the bathroom, stretch, get food and water, and he gave Campbell a pillow to lean his head on at night. Luke and Clark took shifts when Grizz needed a break, and they were far less accommodating. They put water inches away from where he could reach, laughing while watching him struggle.  
  
"Knock it off," Grizz snapped when he saw it happen. That was the last time they tried it. "Christ. I'm sorry."  
  
Campbell fought against the burning, sharp feeling in his chest. "It's whatever. They just need some way to feel powerful. Fucking wimps."  
  
Grizz didn't argue. Day two oozed by, and Campbell's shoulder had gone from aching, to throbbing and painful, to numb. His legs cramped and he was dizzy from a lack of sleep. Thankfully, Allie decided to visit him that evening. For a moment, Campbell had hope that she was letting him free; that hope evaporated when he saw the look in her eyes.  
  
"Allie, it's been days. Is all this really necessary?" he still tried, jiggling the handcuff. "Just uncuff me and lock the door or whatever. I'm not gonna jump out the window."  
  
Sitting on the bed, Allie shrugged. "Maybe."  
  
"I'm going to get pressure sores or something."  
  
"Yeah. That's what we should be worried about."  
  
"It is. I had nothing to do with killing Cassandra."  
  
"That's all you have to say?"  
  
Campbell gave an exasperated groan. "What else is there? Goddamn it, Allie, this is _ridiculous_. Your sister and I were cousins. Family. We were friends." He gestured to the air. "Besides, what do you expect? Huh? I can't prove it didn't happen. Can he prove it did?"  
  
"I can't tell you that."  
  
"I've barely spoken to Dewey our whole lives. Harry doesn't even like him, not that I can remember, anyways. He's always been a fucking asshole who just hangs around for scraps."  
  
"Then why did he accuse you?"  
  
"Are you _really_ that fucking dense? You know my reputation."  
  
Oh, she knew his reputation all too well. Allie's eyes blinked a little too fast. A nervous response. "Answer the question."  
  
"I was the most obvious pick. It was a desperate move. You asked him if he had help, didn't you?" Campbell leaned back against the radiator. Allie wasn't as outwardly icy as Cassandra, but she was equally ruthless. It was hidden under the surface, waiting for just enough power to roar to life. "What did you promise him if he named names? What did you say would happen, if he didn't?"  
  
"That has nothing to do with--"  
  
"It has everything to do with it. People will tell you anything if they think their life is in danger. Big fucking duh."  
  
"I need to know what happened that night. Just tell me."  
  
"He killed her. It's that simple."  
  
"Alone? Because I don't think so." Allie leaned forward. "If not you, then Harry."  
  
Campbell snorted. "Harry? No, no."  
  
"Then who?"  
  
"Are you asking for my opinion?" When Allie stood and began to pace, Campbell rolled his eyes. Oh, that was rich. She imprisoned him and then wanted his insight. "Harry's a scared little puppy. Too bold for him. Too much effort. He can barely get out of bed these days, and he didn't really hate Cassandra like that, anyways."  
  
"Who do you think did it, then?"  
  
Humoring her, Campbell gave the question some thought. He examined everyone on the party list, and even the town populace in general. He couldn't think of anyone else who would have been that desperate for Harry's approval. "No one. Dewey did it alone. Just an entitled white boy who hates strong women. Pretty much the story with any shooter."  
  
"Classic misogyny," Allie mumbled. She chewed on her thumbnail. "Was that really all it was?"  
  
Campbell tried to shift to a more comfortable position, but there wasn't one. Everywhere hurt. They hadn't let him have any visitors-- not even Sam-- and her was starting to go from bored to annoyed. If she hadn't chained him up like a rabid dog, maybe he'd have been more sympathetic, but the only one who had his sympathy was in the ground. Everyone else was just grinding on his last nerve, but he couldn't escape to calm down. "Allie, are you gonna let me go?"  
  
"I haven't decided yet."  
  
"But if I'm innocent--"  
  
Allie's mouth pulled into a little smirk. "You think so? Maybe you didn't do _this_ , but that doesn't mean you're innocent."  
  
"You're joking." There was no way in hell she could just detain him for some personal grudge. He felt his adrenaline start to kick in, but goddamn it, all he could do was tug uselessly at the handcuff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"  
  
Sitting back down, Allie rested her chin on her hand and stared at Campbell. "Are you scared of me?"  
  
A big mistake on her part, saying that. Campbell perked a little, stopping to analyze that question. _Are you scared of me?_ She'd mistaken his desire to get the fuck away from her as fear. And she wanted him to be scared. She wanted him afraid of her... because she'd always been afraid of him. Hate, fear. It made people do terrible shit. Like, for example, threaten to keep one's cousin locked up-- or worse-- just because they'd been a prick. That, combined with Sam's story, must have made Allie afraid. Campbell smiled, relaxing into the handcuff and focusing his gaze on her.  
  
"You have no evidence against me. I didn't do shit, and you know it. So, let me guess. You're keeping me here because you're all scared of me." He grinned as her expression froze. "And, what? You finally have a way to deal with your Campbell problem? I'm guilty of being fucked up in the head, so I deserve to be locked up? Or worse? Is that it? I'm the kind of weirdo it's acceptable to pop in the head and get rid of."  
  
"I didn't say anything about killing anyone."  
  
He laughed. "Let's drop the act and stop being coy, Allie." Campbell's smile faded as he dug through his memory for every little bit of information he had on Allie, and her personality. Every little thing that made her weak. "The thing is, if you do that, you're gonna have to be the one to pull the trigger. That's how it is, as the leader. But you don't like to make tough choices, do you? You're not _Cassandra_."  
  
Her nose twitched in disgust. He had her. "Fuck you."  
  
"You can't kill me and not Dewey. That wouldn't make sense. So then you, you've killed two people. And Allie, you might be all kinds of fucked up, too. I don't know. But I do know you're not like me."  
  
"So what? I don't have to be."  
  
"Yeah, you do. How are you gonna sleep at night, knowing you're a murderer? Knowing that you killed your own family just because people are ignorant and afraid? Because you're ignorant and afraid?"  
  
"I..."  
  
"You'll _never_ get rid of me, cousin. We'll visit you," he whispered as he leaned forward, close enough that he could see the tears springing up in her eyes. "Cassandra and I. Every night in your sleep."  
  
Allie swallowed, standing quickly and walking towards the bedroom door. She stopped, her hand on the doorknob. "Maybe I'll just have to live with that."  
  
But the calm in her voice faltered, and that was all he needed. Campbell chuckled, and Allie retreated out the door, shoving her way past Sam and heading downstairs. It was enough to soothe that ache in his chest, in his fingers, that commanded him to rip and tear and make her suffer. But then he saw Sam looking at him with that look, and Campbell felt the wind leave his sails just a touch.  
  
"Are you Plan B?" Campbell asked as Sam came in the room.  
  
"No. I'm not supposed to be in here." Sam sat next to Campbell on the floor. He tucked his knees up to his chest, and signed slowly. A small mercy, considering Campbell was operating on a total of twenty minutes of sleep. "I just wanted to see you."  
  
"You know I can't stay locked up like this."  
  
"I'm going to see what I can do. It just doesn't look very good right now."  
  
"If she decides to kill me..."  
  
Sam's signing turned sharp, angry. "I won't let her do that. I won't."  
  
"How do you plan to stop her?"  
  
"I'll get Grizz to let you go. I'll take you home, stay with you until she backs off."  
  
"Thanks for the sentiment." Campbell glanced at the watch on Sam's wrist. It was just past midnight. Day three had begun. "Go get some rest, Sam. You look almost as shitty as I do."  
  
Because he hadn't been sleeping, either, Campbell realized as Sam rubbed his face and gave a long, weary sigh. "Goodnight, Campbell."  
  
"Night, Sam."  
  
Campbell waited until Sam was gone before kicking over the empty soda can Grizz had brought in at dinner. It was bullshit. They locked him up for days without any proof at all, besides the words of a convicted murderer, chained to a radiator like a fucking animal. Allie outright threatened that she would keep him like that even if he didn't do it. And to put all that on not only him, but Sam? Sam was innocent. He didn't deserve to worry like that, especially not over Campbell; was Allie really that desperate for revenge?  
  
Sleep that night went the same way it had since he'd been arrested. Trying to get comfortable, but the metal of the handcuff chaffed and bit into his wrist, the radiator coils pushed into his neck and back and shoulders, and the hard wood floor made his hips ache. He could hear noise from other rooms. He could hear when everyone went to sleep, and then there was just silence. Silence, except for the creak of the floor outside his room when whoever was guarding him moved around.  
  
_Creak_. Campbell startled awake out of the half-sleep he'd just slipped into. He tried again. Ten minutes, twenty minutes went by. _Creak_. He woke up again. All night long, and eventually, Campbell gave up like he had before and settled into a sort of zoned-out trance.  
  
Grizz came by and made sure he had lunch. "It's nothing fancy," he said as he gave Campbell water, a cheese sandwich, and dried cranberries. "But I know you don't like meat and you're on prison rations until Allie makes up her mind."  
  
"How's that looking?" Campbell wondered, poking at the food. His own hand didn't even look real anymore. "Any progress?"  
  
"Not much. People are starting to whisper."  
  
"People have _been_ whispering. They're starting to get pissed."  
  
Grizz peeked out the door. "I'm worried she's gonna lose it. People want answers, leadership, and I believe in her but she doesn't believe in herself. People are gonna notice that."  
  
"It's because she has to want it."  
  
"She doesn't want it."  
  
And there was the problem, right there. A teen girl suffering the loss of her big sister, forced to step into her shoes, with the responsibility of an entire society on her shoulders. Campbell knew what their family was like. The pressure there was to be perfect, to compete against one's sibling, to see one's parents pick a favorite when one couldn't live up to the high expectations. It was a lot to try and handle. Allie, forever in Cassandra's shadow, unable to be the perfect little baby that her parents wanted. Campbell could understand how it felt, but at this rate, she was gonna snap. And then someone would take things from her.  
  
Oh, _no_. What a _shame_.  
  
Except it would be, because everything Cassandra worked for would be gone, if things landed into the hands of the wrong person.  
  
There were footsteps on the stairs, and Grizz ducked back out of the room before they were seen talking. Luke's voice rose up from outside, muffled. A better guard than Clark. Luke, at least, would come in every so often and ask Campbell if he needed anything. He still didn't stop Gordie from hovering near the door and glaring. Maybe if Allie didn't try and do him in, one of the others would. It wouldn't be surprising.  
  
What was surprising was, later that night, Campbell heard shouting from downstairs. Grizz had returned to his post at Campbell's room, but quickly shut the door once the yelling began. Campbell strained to hear, but he could only tell who was arguing, not so much what they were arguing about. He could hear Will and Luke, faintly, but Allie moreso. It didn't last long, whatever was happening. Soon, the door swung open and Allie stomped in, slamming the door behind her.  
  
"You're right."  
  
Campbell tensed as Allie sat down across from him. She looked angry, with her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed. "What?"  
  
"I've been scared of you my whole life. And for just one second, I wanted you to know what that felt like." She crossed her arms. "But you didn't, did you?"  
  
"I'm not scared of you. I'm worried about what you might do."  
  
"And what did you think I was going to do?"  
  
"You know what I thought."  
  
Allie studied the floor. "I thought that maybe I'd keep you here, locked up, to teach you a lesson. Some people have told me it'd be easier to just get rid of you. That it'd be safer for you to be gone, before you _actually_ do anything to hurt people."  
  
"And?" He kept his tone even, but he felt his heart begin to slam harder as his brain tried to figure some way out. "What did you decide?"  
  
Standing up, Allie reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. She unlocked the handcuffs and waited for Campbell to get to his feet. She latched onto his wrist and led him out the back door, away from where everyone else was. Allie opened the door and shoved him onto the back porch. "Get out."  
  
It hurt to walk, and his legs felt like lead and jello at the same time, but Campbell didn't wait around for her to change her mind. He didn't even think to text Elle or Harry; he just raced home as quick as he could. Campbell could hear the piano playing from inside. Who was that?  
  
The playing stopped when he entered the home. Elle's voice floated through the silence. "Who's there?"  
  
Campbell felt a wave of relief as he turned the corner and saw Elle. It was a new sensation. A little spark of joy, a feeling of being home and safe. She was there, and she was alright. They all were, for now. "I'm free."  
  
"How..." Elle stood, stammering. Her eyes were wide. "How did you get out?"  
  
"I didn't do anything, so she let me go."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Tilting his head, Campbell walked up to Elle and stroked her cheek. She looked more like a deer in the headlights than a concerned girlfriend. "Are you okay? I thought you'd be happy to see me."  
  
Elle threw her arms around Campbell's neck, burrowing her face into his shoulder. "I am! So much." She kissed his cheek, running her hands through his hair. "So much. We were so worried."  
  
_We_. Campbell glanced up, seeing movement behind Elle. Harry stood in the doorway of the room, dark circles under his eyes and a blanket curled tightly around his shoulders; he kept his distance, but once Elle had left for work, Harry followed him upstairs. Campbell knew it was inappropriate for Harry to sleep beside him, but Campbell was too tired to stop him. That was the excuse Campbell made for himself, anyways. Harry sunk his fingers into Campbell's shirt, nestling close. Campbell fell into a heavy sleep, finally comfortable in his own bed.  
  
When he woke up, Harry was still there, sniffling softly with red-rimmed eyes. He didn't seem to notice Campbell was awake. Not until Campbell lightly wrapped his arms arms around Harry, anyways; Harry jumped a little, but then leaned into the embrace. "I thought they were gonna..." His voice broke. "Fucking _dicks_."  
  
Campbell softened his voice. "Hey, it's okay. They didn't do anything to me. We're going to be okay now, alright? Everything is going to be okay."  
  
"How do you know that? If they try again--"  
  
"Then there will be hell to pay." Campbell knew it was an idle threat. If Allie and her minions came for him again, no one would be able to stop them. Elle and Harry didn't have enough power to stop them. Still, Harry relaxed a little at the words. "Trust me."  
  
Harry's mouth twitched at the corner. "Never."  
  
"Smart boy."  
  
The house was cooler than usual as the sun went down; clouds were forming, and there was a breeze, heralding the chance of rain. Campbell was loathe to move away from the warmth of their blankets and shared body heat, but Elle would be home soon and they had their own jobs to get to. Harry bit his lip and gave Campbell a look that was almost pleading-- not yet, just a few more moments-- but Campbell stood and threw on fresh clothing. He couldn't give in to the desire for closeness. Neither of them could, especially not now when tensions were already so high. Maybe once things calmed down...  
  
_If_ they calmed down.  
  
Elle gave Campbell a quick peck on the cheek as they passed one another on the porch. Campbell was tempted to say fuck work, and just stay home with Elle to make some coffee and watch a movie, but he had to try to be on good behavior. He couldn't give Allie a reason to fuck around with him again. But it sucked, like it always sucked, and he was happy when it was time for dinner. Elle joined him and Harry for it, and after a bit of clean-up, they could go home.  
  
Campbell was glad to get home and finally get a shower, but a closer look in his closet revealed something that made him pause. He hadn't noticed before, but there was a familiar pair of jeans and a shirt hanging there that hadn't been there before. He knew, because those were the clothes he wore the night Charlie disappeared. There was still a trace of blood on the jeans. Neither Harry or Elle had asked about them. It could have been either of them that washed the things, but Harry's idea of putting clothes away was tossing them on a chair and hoping for the best. No, the meticulous one was Elle.  
  
"Hey, babe?" Campbell asked Elle when she came back to the bedroom. He held up the shirt and wiggled it. "Where'd you find these?"  
  
Elle gave them a quick glance before heading into the bathroom to brush her teeth. "Under the bed. I did the laundry while you were gone." A pause. "There was blood on your jeans. Are you okay?"  
  
Fuck. Campbell followed her into the bathroom, kissing her shoulder. "Oh, yeah. It's just allergy season. I get nosebleeds sometimes. Sorry, I didn't want you to worry."  
  
She couldn't say anything with a mouth full of toothpaste, but Elle nodded. Campbell thought he saw a flicker of... something, but his eyelids felt like lead and his body was sluggish. He needed sleep, and Elle snuggled up to him just as close as usual, so what was there to worry about? He was just tired, and letting his disorder run off with him like it often did. He was home. He was safe.  
  
Campbell was just crawling out of bed when the text came in. Allie had made a decision; she was calling everyone to the church at 8am. Half an hour. Elle was already stumbling around getting dressed, and Harry had fallen asleep in the clothes he wore the day before, so they made it to the church with a handful of minutes to spare. They hadn't eaten. Elle looked like she wanted to be ill, and Harry was silent and shaking; neither looked hungry, and Campbell wasn't going to force himself, either.  
  
When they got to the church, Campbell stopped a few yards away. "Go in without me," he said. He remembered the shouts and cheers of the people when he got arrested. Campbell could picture their snide, smug faces in his mind. "I'll wait here."  
  
Harry stopped, while Elle went inside. "Are you sure you'll be alright out here?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
The real answer was actually of course not, and Harry knew this. Still. Harry followed Elle into the church; he was nothing if not obedient. Campbell tucked himself into a shaded spot, out of view, and waited. The air was thick and warm already, the start of a hot day. Campbell had just started to doze off when the church doors slammed open, and Dewey was dragged out kicking, screaming, cursing. Campbell only heard one sentence-- fuck you, you goddamn bitch-- before Dewey was stuffed into the guard's SUV.  
  
When Allie came out a few moments later, she looked stoic. The guard members at her side were less so. Grizz was hard to read, but there was a little wrinkle between his eyebrows, and Luke had his eyes fixed on the ground like somehow he wanted to sink into the concrete. Campbell stood and approached. Everyone but Grizz tensed, but Allie muttered something to her herd and they backed off.  
  
"Campbell," Allie said. She shoved her hands in her pockets. "You weren't at the meeting."  
  
Campbell shrugged. "Being there wouldn't have helped any, right? Anyways. Thought it'd be a good idea if I gave you some space this morning."  
  
"Then why are you here?"  
  
"For the same reason I was there for Cassandra. I knew it'd be hard for you."  
  
Allie stared hard at him, before turning her gaze a little over his shoulder. She was ashamed of her choice. Or, rather, of what she felt she had to do. "We're executing him tomorrow."  
  
"Solomon." Campbell tilted his head. The closer he looked at Allie, the more she looked away from him. "You're actually splitting the baby."  
  
That made her look at him. Allie pursed her lips, defiant. "I did it for Cassandra."  
  
"I know you did. I would have done the same thing." A dig, just to make Allie squirm. Campbell would have enjoyed the queasy look that flitted across her face, if it hadn't been about Cassandra. "Good luck."  
  
Maybe she sensed that he meant it, that good luck, because for a single heartbeat of time she looked at him like maybe he wasn't some sort of monster. But then she turned on her heels and headed off, with her lapdogs at her heels. A better reception than he expected, anyways. Campbell turned his attention to Elle and Harry, who emerged from the church and headed towards him.  
  
"I can't believe it," Harry mumbled. "She's really going through with it."  
  
Elle's lips were pressed into a thin line, but her tone was even. "So what?" She shrugged. "He murdered Cassandra. People who do terrible things deserve what they get."  
  
"Maybe, but..."  
  
Campbell walked a few paces ahead of them as they went home, trying to tune them out; it wasn't something he wanted to discuss. He knew that, in the end, what he said to Allie had almost been true. It was so very tempting to take the easy route, and Campbell was very sure that the death penalty was the easy route-- easier than having to watch over an inmate for fuck knew how long, anyways, and have him using up resources. That didn't mean he agreed with the death penalty, especially since Cassandra had been against it, and Campbell had heard all the arguments against it from her. In normal society, it didn't deter crime at all, it was more expensive than life without parole, and innocent people sometimes were killed.  
  
But this wasn't normal society. The society they were in now was tiny, brittle, and scared. Resources were finite. The guard was already stretched thin. Regardless of what Cassandra would have wanted, regardless of what should have been true and factual, they were playing by different rules now. He didn't care to hear moral debates about it.  
  
Most people didn't, it seemed like. Lunch, work, and dinner were quiet. Somber. There were some whispers, but it wasn't surprising that there was so much gossip. It was an execution. Campbell could see Harry sink further into himself with every comment, though; Campbell couldn't exactly offer him comfort, not with everyone else watching them like hawks. It seemed that even with Allie declaring them innocent-- or, well, not worth punishing-- people still were eager to find some excuse to condemn them.  
  
They were halfway home when Harry just... stopped. Campbell turned back, following Harry's line of sight. He was staring down the street, towards the spot Cassandra's body had been found.  
  
"It's my fault," Harry said. He sounded far away. Faint. "I killed them both."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"If I hadn't opened my fucking _mouth_ , if I hadn't said what I did..."  
  
Campbell slid his hand under Harry's chin and turned his head so that Harry was looking at him. "No. You're not gonna do this. Just because someone says something fucked up doesn't mean someone else has the right to go murder someone over it." Campbell cut Harry off before he could protest. "It was Dewey's fault. He chose to do what he did."  
  
Harry gazed at Campbell, the pulled away and kept walking. He didn't say another word, not until they got home. Muttering to himself, Harry went to his room; Campbell followed, wondering what the hell was going on in Harry's mind this time. Harry dug out all the pills he had left, and a few bags of other drugs. Heading into the bathroom, Harry threw open the toilet, dropped the baggies in it, and flushed. They both stood there, watching the drugs vanish.  
  
Once they were completely gone, Harry looked up at Campbell. "Will you help me?"  
  
There was no question about it. Campbell went through the house and dumped all the alcohol down the drain. It pained Campbell a little. Some of the bottles were old, expensive, and it's not like he'd personally planned to go completely sober himself. Harry needed it, though. Harry needed Campbell and his support. Campbell was in no way sober, and never would be. He'd given up on that idea. But he could try to be, for Harry's sake; he knew what it was like to give up drugs, especially ones like cocaine, and Harry would need all the help he could get.  
  
"Thank you," Harry said when they were done. He frowned as he looked around the kitchen, as if unsure of what to do now that it was all gone. "I just... I _can't_ anymore. You know?"  
  
"I know. It's gonna be hell for a while. Are you ready for that?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "No, but I can't go through this again, Cam. I don't have it in me. If I keep going on like this, one of these days I'll just..." He hesitated, then gave Campbell a weak smile. "Anyways. I think I'll go to bed."  
  
Campbell didn't want to leave. It was gonna be a rough night, and it was only going to be rougher for the next week or so. What if it was all a big show, and Harry was going to do something foolish the minute Campbell left him alone? It happened, sometimes. Professionals always said that it was when depressed people started acting better to worry most, because them being calm could be a sign that they'd decided to end their lives. Harry didn't seem calm, he just seemed ready to try and help himself. Still, if--  
  
Harry was staring at him with a knowing look; he stepped closer, and leaned his forehead against Campbell's shoulder. Of course he'd seen the look on Campbell's face, and read it for what it was. He didn't say anything. Campbell didn't, either. It was a brief, wordless comfort, and then Harry ducked into his room and shut the door.  
  
Elle was in her pajamas by the time Campbell got upstairs. "Is everything okay?" she asked as she took her make-up off in the bathroom. "Sounded busy down there."  
  
"It's fine. Harry's decided he's gonna get off the drugs and the alcohol." Campbell sunk onto the bed and tossed his shirt into the laundry hamper in the corner. "I was helping him dump the alcohol in the house."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah, I mean, he kinda lives here now, too. I didn't want him to be tempted."  
  
Rinsing off her face, Elle turned off the bathroom light and flopped next to him in bed. "I guess it's a good idea. We don't really need alcohol. Too bad we couldn't have used it in the garden next spring though, to keep the slugs away."  
  
"Pretty sure Harry would have mainlined it all by then."  
  
"Good point."  
  
Campbell watched Elle as she fiddled with her necklace. Her hands kept slipping. "Do you need some help with that? Here."  
  
"It's okay," Elle said quickly, ducking away from his hands. "My hands were just damp still."  
  
"Are you feeling alright? You've seemed kind of on edge all day."  
  
"It's been a rough day, Campbell."  
  
"I know, I just... Do you wanna talk about it?"  
  
"No. I'll just be happy when it's over and we can move on." Elle tucked herself in and turned off her bedside lamp, but she stayed sitting up n the faint half-light, her eyes on Campbell. "You looked uncomfortable earlier. Don't you think people who hurt others deserve to be punished?"  
  
Campbell felt a cold trickle down his neck and spine. "What do you mean?" It was a strange question, and the fervid look in her eyes made him want to just stand up and leave the room. "Is this about us? Because I've been trying really hard to be better, and I know that doesn't change what happened before, but--"  
  
"I was just talking to Becca about it, during work."  
  
"Becca?"  
  
"She thinks it's true."  
  
"I don't doubt it. She's always been pretty passionate about her beliefs."  
  
Whatever he said, it triggered some sort of change in Elle's attitude. "Yeah." Rolling over, Elle laid down and pulled the blankets over her. "Sorry, I guess I just need some rest. Goodnight, Campbell."  
  
Campbell sat up a little longer, then laid down, too.  
  
Weird. Weird, but no one seemed to be getting good sleep lately. Maybe, after tomorrow, people would be less... whatever the hell was happening to people. He just wanted things to go back to how they were only a little while ago, sipping lemonade on their porch and admiring the work all three of them had done together. He just wanted to get his head right with Grizz's help, and try to heal things with Sam, and make sure Harry stayed safe and healthy. Campbell wanted to prove himself to Elle. All this death and murder and trial business was making people senseless.  
  
The phone rang at 4am.  
  
Picking it up, he slipped out of the bedroom and into the hall. "Hello?"  
  
"I can't do it."  
  
Allie's voice was strained. Whispering. Campbell shut the bedroom door, and headed across the hall to Elle's bathroom. "Too late for that, cousin. If you back out now, you'll look weak. Weak leaders don't survive long."  
  
"How can I?" Allie rasped. "How can I take someone's life?"  
  
Campbell sat down roughly on the bathroom floor, leaning back against the cool, tiled wall. "Not lightly. But we both watched Game of Thrones, Allie. You remember what Ned Stark said at the very beginning. _The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword._ "  
  
"You're quoting a television show?"  
  
"Am I wrong?"  
  
A long silence, and a sniffle. "No. I guess not."  
  
"Well, then." Campbell traced the small cracks in the floor. He tried to think of something soothing, but there wasn't anything to say. "Do you want me to do it?"  
  
"Campbell."  
  
"Allie, answer the question. Do you want me to kill him for you? You and I could go out there together, without anyone else around. You don't have to even tell anyone it was me. No one would have to know."  
  
"You'd tell them."  
  
"I wouldn't."  
  
"Why? Why are you offering?"  
  
"Why are you calling?"  
  
"I..." Allie gulped. She didn't answer, not for a long while. "I don't know. I thought maybe... I guess I just wanted to talk to someone who wouldn't waver."  
  
"There you go, then."  
  
"I can't ask you to do it. I have to, don't I?"  
  
Campbell had never been close to Allie, and while the despair in her voice didn't stir any pity in him, he could acknowledge that it was a shit situation. "You passed down the sentence, Allie. You gotta swing the sword. Even if it fucking sucks."  
  
Allie let out a short, shaking breath, and hung up. Campbell waited for a few minutes, then got up and went back to bed. He didn't fall asleep. The best he could manage was laying down with his eyes closed, listening to Elle's soft snoring, and try to clear his mind of everything that had happened. Impossible, but he could sleep once it was over, done, and there was closure. Once it had been laid to rest, literally, everything would start to heal.  
  
A lie, probably, but it was a comfortable one.


	2. Chapter 2

_Meet me at the library._  
  
It was 10am when Campbell got the text from Grizz. He had been sitting at the kitchen counter with Elle and Harry; both of them lifted their gazes at the sound of the buzzing, giving him a quizzical look.  
  
_It's done. I need someone to talk to._  
  
"Who is it?" Elle wondered.  
  
"Grizz." Campbell stood up and slipped on his shoes. "Allie went through with it."  
  
Harry's face turned a faint shade of green. "What does he want?"  
  
"I don't know. I'll be home soon."  
  
Yet another lie, but what did it matter? Campbell didn't know for sure what was going on, or what exactly Grizz wanted to talk about; he could only guess, and either way, it wasn't his business to share. At least it was a beautiful day, Campbell thought as he walked to the library. Sunny, warm but not hot. A good day to go, if he had to pick one. But Dewey hadn't picked it, and the beauty of the summer morning didn't change that fact, nor did it change the fact that Grizz was hunched up under the tree in front of the library. Shaking, crying.  
  
Campbell didn't say anything. He walked up and sat across from Grizz, keeping his mouth shut and studying the grass while Grizz pulled himself together. Grizz would talk, on his own time; pushing would only make things harder, as could unwelcome touch, even if it was out of comfort. Speech wasn't something that could just be pried from people who were panicking, especially not autistic people.  
  
After fifteen minutes, Grizz let out a shuddering whimper. He ground his wrists against his eyes and sniffled. Coughed. "I couldn't do it."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"She had us all pick up a gun. We didn't know which had a bullet. I tried but, we missed the first time and I just couldn't..." Grizz choked on his words, looking like he was going to retch. "Fuck, how are we supposed to live with this?"  
  
Campbell thought back on everything he'd ever done. How did he live with the worst of it? No, he didn't exactly feel bad about any of it, but he could imagine what it'd be like, if he did. "I guess you just find some way to justify it, some explanation that makes it less painful, and hold onto it until things feel less awful."  
  
"That works?"  
  
"I don't know. Remorse isn't my thing, usually."  
  
Grizz looked up at him, frowning, but he didn't say anything. Not at first. "There was graffiti on the wall, before we were brought here. It said we'd been weighed, and found wanting. It was gone when we got here. Maybe it was right, whatever it was."  
  
"Huh." Something bothered Campbell from the back of his mind. A faint memory. Something that felt connected, but nothing that jumped to mind clearly. Shaking his head, Campbell shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe. Either way, all I know is that sometimes shit can't be avoided. All you can do is accept that it happened, find a reason you can live with, and keep going."  
  
"I just want it to stop hurting."  
  
"I wish I could tell you that it will, but I don't know. It might not. It fucking sucks."  
  
"What would you tell yourself?" Grizz asked. "If it had been you?"  
  
"Probably something like, we're in a shit situation without the means to keep him safely contained, and he was a threat. Putting him down would be the fastest, most surefire way of making sure the rest of the community would be safe."  
  
"That's not really true."  
  
"You asked me for what I'd tell myself. Not for the truth."  
  
Grizz leaned back against the tree and stared up at its leaves. There was a finch up among the branches, whistling an obliviously cheerful tune. "I couldn't tell Sam about this," he said, eyes fixed on the bird. "I don't want him to see me falling apart like some kind of weak piece of shit."  
  
The idea made Campbell laugh, despite the situation. "Have you met my brother? Yeah, sometimes he can be stubborn, and he can make jokes when it's not the best time. But he's got a lot of fire and he's compassionate. He's a good guy. Sam isn't going to think you're weak. He's going to think you're a good person who was put in a shit position. Because that's the truth."  
  
They sat there together for a while. Grizz cried again, softer than before, but he still rocked back and forth and let out small whimpering noises.  
  
"Is it okay if I hug you or something?" Campbell asked. It felt strange, just sitting there while someone fell apart. Grizz shook his head. "Alright. Is there anything I can do?"  
  
Grizz used a handkerchief to wipe his face. "Uhm." His cheeks turned a flushed pink. "Could you, I mean, I need to take my mind of things. Could you help me find a book on sign language? I'm... I wanna..."  
  
"Say no more. C'mon."  
  
Grizz followed Campbell into the library. It felt surreal, helping the guy pick out a book to probably sign-sext Sam, but there was a sincere curiosity and eagerness to Grizz as they headed towards the language section that Campbell decided he didn't care. Whatever. The guy had just watched someone die. But as they walked towards the section, Campbell turned the plan over in his head. A few times, in fact. By the time they got there, he knew what he would do.  
  
Campbell grabbed a book on British Sign Language before Grizz had a chance to look over things much. "Here. This is the one I used to learn. It's super informative."  
  
"But it says British." Grizz frowned. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Of course I'm sure. It's pretty much the same thing, just with... you know, British slang."  
  
Grizz peered at the book as Campbell pushed it into his hands. "Huh. Well, okay. If you say so. Thanks, Campbell. For being cool about this, I mean."  
  
"No big deal. You help me, I'll help you."  
  
He didn't tell Grizz the plan, of course. That was something he'd find out all on his own, but he'd thank Campbell for it later. They explored the library a bit more, with Grizz staring down the religion and spirituality section before shaking his head and leaving. Campbell didn't ask. He just made sure Grizz got home safe, before heading home himself. Hopefully, Grizz would just tuck into his room and focus on learning the wrong type of sign language, and take it easy.  
  
Elle was sitting on the porch when he got home, getting together some paper, pens and other stuff. "Hey," she called as he walked up. "I'm heading over to Becca's house. She's going to help me make missing dog signs during my work break."  
  
Campbell winced. "I'm sorry he's still gone, babe. Do you need me to come help put them up?"  
  
"No. I've got it."  
  
She sounded upset, but of course she was upset. Charlie was gone and hadn't been found. He considered telling her about the blood, but he'd already lied about it; it'd look bad if he suddenly admitted it had come from the night Charlie went missing. Besides, he had no clue if the blood was Charlie's, and Elle didn't need to hear that something-- who knew what, some unknown dark mass-- probably ate her dog.  
  
"Alright. Have a good day at work. If you change your mind, I'll see you at lunch."  
  
Campbell kissed Elle's forehead. She gave him a smile and stroked his cheek before leaving. He watched her go, his own smile falling once she was out of sight. There had to be something he could do to cheer her up. First thing was first, though. He went inside and checked in on Harry, who was snoozing in bed. His forehead felt feverish when Campbell pressed his hand to it. But he didn't stir, and Campbell didn't want to wake him. Instead, he grabbed a book from the living room and perched at the end of Harry's bed, waiting.  
  
It was close to lunch time when Harry groaned, stretched, and yawned. He blinked sleepily at Campbell, and Campbell felt his heart ache a centimeter more than before. Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes, voice groggy. "Hey, Cam. How long have you been here?"  
  
"A while. You feeling okay?"  
  
"No. I feel like I got hit by a truck."  
  
"Hungry?"  
  
"No."  
  
Standing, Campbell went to the kitchen and brewed a cup of herbal tea, with a few scoops of sugar. He brought it back to Harry and held it out. Harry sighed and sipped the drink. "No caffeine for a bit," Campbell said as he opened the curtains a touch. "It'll make you more jittery."  
  
"Can I lie and say I feel great?" Harry asked with mock hope. Campbell gave him a look, and Harry slumped. "I guess I better get ready for work and stuff."  
  
"Just brush your teeth and put some shoes on. I'll do your half of the work, I just need you there so I can keep an eye on you."  
  
"But Allie--"  
  
"Can take it out on me if she has a problem with it."  
  
Harry bit his lip, but he didn't argue. Campbell drove them to lunch so Harry wouldn't have to stress his body out; Elle joined them out in the school's courtyard, where it was pleasantly warm and away from the bright fluorescent lights. Harry picked at his food, but he seemed a little less haggard, out in the sunlight and with the fresh air. Elle was quiet and didn't say much.  
  
No one, Campbell realize, was saying much. Not at lunch, not during cleaning duties before dinner. Elle had left with Becca-- who hadn't even glanced at Campbell-- to go hang up the missing dog posters. The house felt heavy, and at work, everything was the same way. People had cheered for Dewey's arrest, and some had even cheered for his death sentence, were stone silent. Campbell kept his head down and mopped the floors, but he wanted to laugh in their faces. See, he wanted to yell. You think you're so fucking righteous, but you all have blood on your hands, too. They thought they were so tough. Now, reality was hitting them right in their fucking faces.  
  
That evening, after dinner, Allie called a meeting at the church. "Greg Dewey was put to death at 9am this morning," she said. Her voice was flat. She didn't look at anyone, staring straight ahead. "He was buried in the woods without a marker. There will be no funeral. If you want to mourn him, you can do so among yourselves."  
  
And then she left, leaving behind a church of stunned faces, with plenty of shocked whispers among them. Campbell, Elle, and Harry went home without a word, and that night was the first time Elle slept in her own room in a long time. He didn't mind the time alone. There was a lot to think about, to try and process. He thought he would feel some sort of comfort, some sort of closure, but he felt nothing. Just a dark hole where Cassandra had been, still, and no real sense of justice. Just cold practicality, distant and hollow logic that said it was the right move for survival, and that was it.  
  
Dewey had deserved to suffer. To live for ages, knowing what he did and be punished for it. Death wasn't to punish him or get Cassandra some sort of peace in her rest. It was just to get Dewey out of their hair. And Campbell knew that, had known that the whole time, but with it over and done...  
  
His phone buzzed. _I love you_ , the text from Sam read. That was it.  
  
_I love you, too_ , Campbell texted back.  
  
The message was read, but Sam didn't send anything else. Campbell set the phone down and tried to go to sleep. He didn't know why Sam had sent that, or what it or his own reply meant at all, but something about it felt like an acknowledgment that things were fucked and who knew how much time any of them had? Maybe that was all it was. Two semi-estranged souls feeling burdened by the idea of death, and reaching out for some small scrap of familial affection. Just in case.  
  
For the next week, the days seemed to drag by but vanish in a blink at the same time. Everyone seemed to be in their own little bubbles, except for Harry, who stuck close by Campbell's side. It was hell watching him detox, and Campbell wondered if he'd been that irritable; one moment, Harry would be angry and snapping, the next he'd be crying. He slept all the time, which wasn't too far from normal, but even when Campbell dragged him to work-- to pretend like he was working-- he'd glaze over like some sort of robot without batteries.  
  
Elle had withdrawn into her shell. Campbell didn't know what to do. They weren't fighting, but her smiles were forced and when she laughed or acted interested in anything going on, Campbell could tell it was fake. He knew that sort of mask all too well. But what could he do? He didn't even know for sure what was wrong. If he didn't know any better, he'd think it was something he'd done. Maybe it was, but he'd been on his best behavior. What was he missing?  
  
Allie arrived at the house one day when Campbell was sipping coffee on the front steps, pondering that exact question. "I heard Harry hasn't been working," she said, staring past him at the house door. "Can I talk to him?"  
  
"He's sleeping. You can talk to me."  
  
"Campbell, you know the rules. You don't work, you don't eat."  
  
Campbell shrugged. "Fine. I've taken over his shifts until he feels better. If I'm doing twice the work, I get twice the food. No problem."  
  
"Christ. What's going on with him?"  
  
"He's detoxing. Gave up the drugs and the booze cold turkey."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Is it really that surprising?"  
  
"I guess I just never thought..." Allie rolled her eyes, then looked Campbell over. "Alright, fine. Have it your way. Twice the work, twice the food. I don't care what you do with it. How long does he need?"  
  
"Assuming my research is right, about another week. Week and a half."  
  
"He's got two weeks. If he needs longer, then he needs to come see me."  
  
"Thanks." Hesitating a moment, Campbell called out to Allie as she started to walk away. "Hey, Allie? Can I ask you something?"  
  
Allie sighed, but stopped. "What's up?"  
  
"Do you know if something happened with Elle? She's been acting kinda strange lately."  
  
"I don't know. She's been hanging out with Helena and Becca a lot. Ask them."  
  
"Well, I would, but Helena wants me to burn in Hell and Becca hasn't spoken to me in forever. Makes things a little difficult, doesn't it?"  
  
"Really?" Furrowing her eyebrows, Allie took a few steps back towards Campbell. "You guys used to be friends, didn't you?"  
  
"Kinda. But then..." Careful. "Life happened, I guess, and she won't even look at me anymore. No clue why."  
  
The look on Allie's face shifted, and for a moment Campbell thought she was going to ask something, but then she shook her head. "I'll ask Sam to talk to her. You and him are on speaking terms again, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. Mostly."  
  
"Good."  
  
That sounded almost genuine. Maybe it was. Who knew. Allie walked off, and Campbell finished his coffee in peace. The mystery only deepened as the day went on, and Sam texted him, asking to meet. Elle was at work, so Campbell dragged a weary Harry along to the coffee shop where his brother was waiting. Sam gave Harry a skeptical look, but Harry tucked himself into a corner in the back with a book and one of Campbell's hoodies draped over his shoulders. He wasn't going to be paying attention.  
  
"How have you been?" Campbell asked. "Since everything."  
  
"Tired. Sad. Worried."  
  
"Worried?"  
  
Sam shook his head and gave a helpless sort of shrug. "About how it will change things. How it will change us. But I think Allie is taking it harder than most of us. She had to take over for Grizz."  
  
Now, that was something Campbell hadn't known. "Yikes. No wonder she's tense."  
  
"Everyone seems tense. Allie told me you're having troubles with Elle?"  
  
"Maybe, I don't know. I'm glad she's got some friends now, but lately she's been hanging out with Becca more. She found a dog wandering loose, and then he disappeared right around the time all this Dewey shit started. Maybe it's just that."  
  
"Maybe. That's rough."  
  
"It is." Campbell noticed a hint of... something in Sam's eyes, though. "Do you know if Becca has anything against me? We got along okay, but she treats me like I've got some sort of contagious disease these days."  
  
Pursing his lips together, Sam glanced to where Harry was curled up. Harry was still ignoring them, but Sam switched to signing only. "I want to ask you something, but you have to promise to tell me the truth."  
  
"I could lie about promising," Campbell signed back, also going into silent mode. "But sure. I promise."  
  
"Did you and Becca ever sleep together?"  
  
"What? Hell no. Elle's the only person I've slept with."  
  
"That's what I thought, but..."  
  
"But?"  
  
A long, long pause. "Promise you won't say anything, not even to Elle? Or Harry?"  
  
"Dude, still the same problem there."  
  
"Campbell."  
  
"Okay, okay. What's going on?"  
  
"Becca's..." Sam hesitated. "I asked Becca about someone she slept with, and she got angry with me. She told me to never ask her again. I assumed it was you, because I don't know why else she wouldn't tell me."  
  
Campbell felt dizzy, in a way, as he processed the information. Was it possible Becca associated him with that night, and just didn't want to remember? Or, worse, that she thought he had been responsible? Either way, he had no idea what Becca had confessed to Sam, so best to stay vague. "I know about the party where she met them, but it wasn't me. We just went together."  
  
"She never told me about that. You don't know who it was?"  
  
"No. Sorry."  
  
"It's okay. Do you want me to talk to Becca for you?"  
  
"No, no, I don't want to bother her, especially if she's angry at me over something. I'll see if Elle will just talk to me."  
  
Sam nodded. He messed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. Empty now, their contents taken by Will and his crew to use in the communal kitchen. "Was that all you wanted to talk about?"  
  
The answer was yes. Campbell hadn't planned on talking about anything else. Yet now that he was there, sitting across from Sam and actually talking about things rather than arguing or blaming or whatever, Campbell considered that maybe it was also time to extend another olive branch. A bigger, better one. "Actually, I was thinking we could go to the arcade on our next day off. Like we used to."  
  
"Really?" Sam sat up a little straighter. "You want to?"  
  
"Yeah, of course. If you want to."  
  
"I'd like that."  
  
They settled on a day and time, and went their separate ways; it was easier than Campbell had expected. No questions, no suspicion. Just a glint of hope. Campbell was starting to think that maybe Sam really did care about him. Maybe he always had. He'd known that his own feelings had been impacted by his parents, but was the same true for Sam? Did their relationships with their parents really color the relationship between them so much? It seemed hard to believe, but maybe it was true, and it had just taken a few doses of tragedy to bridge that gap.  
  
Unfortunately, those tragedies seemed to have broken something between Campbell and Elle. He wasn't ready to just give up, though. Maybe she just needed a reminder of how much she meant to him. Once lunch was over and Elle had gone home to rest, Campbell popped back into the cafeteria. Elaine was working. They weren't as close as before, but she still seemed welcoming when he approached. That was a good sign.  
  
"Hey," Campbell said with as charming of a smile as he could muster. "Could I ask you for a favor?"  
  
Elaine tilted her head. "You can, doesn't mean I'll agree. What's up?"  
  
"I was hoping to make my girlfriend a dinner at home tonight. You know, just me and her. Something special. I just need a jar of like, alfredo sauce and some garlic bread."  
  
"That's cute. I'll have to ask Will, though."  
  
Oh, god. "Okay."  
  
Shuffling into the back, Elaine vanished, and a few minutes later Will came out instead. He looked neutral, but Campbell braced for a fight. "Elaine said you asked for some extra ingredients. You know we're not supposed to give out food for people to use at home."  
  
"I know. Maybe I can bring in some other supplies to trade, at breakfast? You guys probably need band aids and stuff like that, yeah?"  
  
Will narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, we could use some. Are you sure you wanna do that?"  
  
"I'm sure," Campbell replied. "Elle's important to me. I want to do something nice for her."  
  
"I can give you a jar of sauce, and a few slices of texas toast we've got. You got a box of band aids we can have?"  
  
A small price for what Campbell was hoping to accomplish. Maybe Elle just needed a pick-me-up, something to remind her that he cared. The next night, Harry took Elle out with the excuse of getting some fresh air while Campbell quickly set the dining room table. Nice glasses, sparkling cider his parents had kept around for the 4th of July, candlelight. He salted the pasta water, drained it when it was al dente, and added the sauce to the pot with a bit of pasta water and dried herbs. He mixed in some canned mushrooms and a bit of pan-fried frozen chicken, heated the bread, and got it plated just as the two came back from the walk.  
  
"Oh?" Elle peeked into the dining room. "What's this?"  
  
Campbell took her hand and kissed it as Harry darted into his room, flashing Campbell a thumbs up behind Elle's back. "I thought we could stay home tonight, babe. Will traded me a few things so I could make dinner here, just the two of us. I remembered that you liked Italian food, so..."  
  
Elle stretched up on her tippy toes and kissed him. "It looks amazing. Thank you."  
  
And it was amazing, for the first half of dinner. Campbell hated small talk, but Elle was quieter than usual, and if there was ever a time to sort things out... well, maybe it wasn't then, but he was tired of waiting. "How have you been doing?" he asked. "I feel like we haven't really talked lately."  
  
"Oh! Well, I've mostly just been working and helping out some people around town. Some people are talking about setting up classes and workshops to give people things to focus on. I was thinking about reviving movie night."  
  
"That sounds like a good idea. We could all use the distraction."  
  
"Yeah." Elle glanced up from her plate. "There haven't been any leads on Charlie, though. Have you heard anything?"  
  
"Sorry, babe. I haven't heard anything, either."  
  
"And you're sure you don't know what happened to him?"  
  
Campbell gripped his fork tighter as his jaw clenched. Peaceful thoughts, peaceful thoughts. Maybe she didn't mean anything by it. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I was talking to Becca, and--"  
  
"She told you what Sam said?"  
  
"Sure. Yeah."  
  
"Elle, that's..." He stopped and rubbed his face. Even now, even with her, it was all too easy for his brain to go into that space where everyone was a threat and he had to attack to defend himself. This time, he managed to cut himself off before anything snappish came out his mouth. "I've fucked up a lot, and some people in town hate me for a decent reasons. Kelly, Allie. I was mean to them. But Becca's different."  
  
"Different how?"  
  
"I never did anything to Becca, but she hates me, too. Maybe it's because of me and Sam not getting along. I don't know. But whatever she said I did, it's not true."  
  
"Alright. I'm sorry I said anything. I should have known."  
  
"Hey." Campbell stood up and walked to her side of the table, kneeling on the floor next to her and taking her hand in his own. "No, it's okay. I'm not mad at you or Sam or Becca. I just wanted to set the record straight, you know? It's better to just get it out in the open."  
  
Elle nodded, but she was still staring down at her plate. "Yeah, it is. I guess I just..." She trailed off, finally looking to him. "This place is doing things to people. Showing them for who they are, maybe. It scares me."  
  
"It's scary shit. But we still have each other, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
Campbell knew, deep down, it wasn't that simple. Elle began sleeping with him again-- both in the literally and euphemistic sense-- but there was a sadness in her eyes that never quite seemed to fade, even on their best days. She was afraid, and his presence wasn't changing that. He couldn't blame her. He knew that there was no way he could be at her side every moment of every day, and even if he was, he wasn't bulletproof. Still, he refused to stop trying.  
  
He kept seeing Grizz a couple times a week. Usually they would just talk. Vent. Grizz found some papers he had on something called EMDR, and suggested they try it. "It seems to help with stuff like PTSD."  
  
"I don't have PTSD."  
  
"You don't think so?"  
  
"I'm not a war vet, Grizz. I haven't been through anything bad enough for that."  
  
Grizz gave Campbell the look he always gave Campbell when he knew Campbell was trying to avoid a topic, and thought it was bullshit. It was one thing Campbell admired about Grizz-- he didn't hide his opinion. "You don't have to be a war vet. You know that. It's actually the least common cause for PTSD. Physical assault, sexual trauma, and sexual assault are the top three causes."  
  
"Yeah, okay. I get the point."  
  
"Do you? Do you know what the fourth leading cause is?"  
  
"I know you're gonna tell me either way."  
  
"Sudden death of a loved one." Grizz lowered his voice and leaned forward, making direct eye contact for the first time since they' bee having meetings. "You were the one who first found her body, weren't you?"  
  
Campbell met his eyes and felt goosebumps rise up on his arms. "How do you know that? I never told you."  
  
"It doesn't really matter, because I know you didn't hurt her. Here's the papers."  
  
Just to end the conversation, Campbell snatched the paper folder from Grizz and hid in the corner of the library. He didn't want to have to think about what Grizz said, not for a long time, if ever. It wasn't some miracle cure, but Grizz figured out a sort of at-home way to do it, and Campbell did feel better. Calmer. In return, he helped Grizz practice his BSL, even if Campbell knew it wouldn't work with Sam. It wasn't entirely useless. Learning a new language was beneficial, and Grizz was proud of his improvements; Campbell enjoyed the interaction, so really, it was a win/win.  
  
Harry stayed clean, though as summer passed by and melded into fall, Campbell could tell that the depression was getting worse. It wasn't too much of a surprise. Depression didn't just go away, even with treatment, and getting sober made everything more difficult. It had been a coping mechanism, and now Harry didn't have that to lean on. Campbell taught him some of what he'd learned from Cassandra and Grizz; it seemed to help, but the situation they were in just kept punching a lot of people down. Harry needed to rest, but he'd been dragged back to work once the two weeks had been up. To make matters worse, the work schedules hadn't been rotated since Dewey's execution.  
  
"I brought it up to her," Sam said during one of their now-weekly get togethers. "But she just isn't listening. You know Allie. She has her opinions."  
  
"Runs in the family. I don't get it, though. If she's so worried about people revolting against her, why is she doing this?"  
  
Sam lifted his shoulders in a big shrug. "I have no idea. She gave me a job at the library, and told me I could stay there as long as I wanted. She's done the same for a few other people. Given them stable jobs. Maybe she feels like that's what's best for everyone, now."  
  
"Yeah, except she didn't ask anyone."  
  
"She doesn't have to."  
  
And that was that, in the end. Allie didn't have to justify or explain her choices to anyone. It was her rules now. It was her society. They were all just living in it, despite what she may have said during the mandatory town meetings. Campbell kept his fingers on the pulse of the community as best as he could, making notes of who was pissed, frustrated, complaining. He wouldn't give it over to the guard or to Allie, but it was good to keep track of the undercurrent of the river they were all standing in. And it was getting rough.  
  
There was a small reprieve during October.  
  
"I guess Blake, Clark, and some of the goth kids are getting a Halloween thing together at the end of the month," Elle said one day when she came home from work. "Do you wanna go?"  
  
Campbell looked up from the dishes he was washing. "Hey. Sure, that sounds like a good time. When is it going to be?"  
  
"Five in the evening. I guess there's gonna be a trick-or-treat event after dark."  
  
"Nice. That should be fun."  
  
"Do you want to do the costume thing?"  
  
"I don't know. How about you?"  
  
Elle perched on the counter next to him, lightly kicking her legs. "It could be fun. We don't have to do anything complicated. We could ask Harry and Sam and a few other people to come with us, maybe?"  
  
Other people was vague, but she sounded so tentative that he didn't want to press her about it. "Sure. Halloween's kind of better in a group, right? Maybe tomorrow we can go through our stuff and figure out costume ideas."  
  
"Sure. That'd be nice."  
  
And it was. They didn't have anything super elaborate to work with, but it was fun to paw through their closets and figure something out together. They didn't have much luck at first, but Elle's smile was a bit warmer than it had been in a while. Maybe things were going to be okay between them, after all. She held his hand when they went to movie night together, and ended up leaning against him; she and the others involved had decided every week in October would be a different horror movie, which seemed like both the best and worst idea.  
  
It was a double feature night, with Rocky Horror Picture Show and Bela Lugosi's Dracula. Harry had decided to come with them, unlike the previous week's Creature from the Black Lagoon. Harry ended up falling asleep on his shoulder twenty minutes into the second movie. Once the movie was over, Campbell and Harry helped Elle clean up; Elle and Campbell had just taken out the last bag of trash when Elle curled her arms around his waist in a hug.  
  
"Hey," she said as she nuzzled his shoulder. "I got a costume idea. We could always go as Mina and Dracula. Classic. I could wear my nice white dress my mom got me for my birthday this year."  
  
"The one with the lace hem?"  
  
"You remember."  
  
"Of course. You wore it for Easter. It's amazing on you."  
  
She let out a pleased hum. "Do you really like the idea?"  
  
"I do," Campbell affirmed. "Vampires are still in, aren't they?"  
  
"Always."  
  
Even with something to look forward to, the time dragged a little, but it gave Campbell a touch of excitement for the near future. The three of them managed to sneak some Halloween decorations, not something his parents had really allowed, and make the house appropriately festive. He and Harry got in a light argument over whether Nightmare Before Christmas was a Halloween or Christmas movie. The week before the Halloween events, Will revealed that there were pumpkins available for decorating.  
  
Sam showed up with a few, looking hopeful. "I thought we could carve them together," he signed, "since we never have before."  
  
And how could Campbell say no? They sat on the back porch, and Elle joined them with a pitcher of hot, spiced tea. It was sunny and perfect weather for it. Sam didn't eye him for wielding a knife, which was a bonus. Campbell sliced the pumpkins open and dug out the seeds. "There. I'll have to find some tea candles for when they're done."  
  
Harry sat nearby, picking the seeds out of the orange goop. "These can be roasted later," he said. He wrinkled his nose as he grabbed a handful. "Even if it look like something you'd find growing under a bridge."  
  
Sam signed something, and Harry glanced at Campbell, unsure. Campbell chuckled. "He said we might have to forage under bridges if things get bad."  
  
"Oh, geeze." Harry turned his eyes back to Sam. "Better have Grizz teach us about mushrooms."  
  
Blushing, Sam nodded and focused on his pumpkin. He made a sort of howling wolf face, while Elle made a cat, and Campbell and Harry stuck to more traditional jack o' lantern faces. As it turned out, all carved pumpkins were destined to be decorations at the Halloween Eve festival that had been planned; Grizz came around to pick them up the day before, spending a few minutes talking to Sam, who had come by again to make roasted pumpkin seeds.  
  
Campbell waited until Grizz was gone before nudging Sam. "When are you gonna go for it? It's been months."  
  
"He hasn't made any sort of move at all. Are you even sure he likes me?"  
  
"Have you made a move?"  
  
He didn't push the issue when Sam kept quiet. It wasn't really Campbell's business, and his relationship with Sam was just beginning to bloom into something that actually resembled a brotherhood. The lovebirds would come together on their own, eventually, or they wouldn't. Still, it was nice to think maybe Sam wouldn't be alone forever, after all. It was something he'd always worried about, ever since that priest put it in his head after Sam had come out.  
  
At least Grizz was part of the group that gathered together to go to the Halloween events. Campbell dressed in black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket; he'd managed to barter high-quality custom fangs from Elaine, and of course, Elle looked effortlessly beautiful in her white dress and pale make-up. The three of them met the others in front of the school. It was mostly Sam and Allie's friend group, but Campbell was determined to play nice, even though Will, Luke, and Gordie were giving him wary looks, and Becca outright ignored him. There was a tension between her and Sam. Campbell assumed there must have been an argument. Regardless of what happened, they all plastered smiles on their faces and greeted each other.  
  
Allie raised her eyebrows at Harry. "Dude, what's your costume?"  
  
Harry stood there in boxers, a tank top, and moose slippers with a five day shadow and an unopened package of Top Ramen in his hands. Without missing a beat, he gestured to himself with it and shrugged. "I'm a Millennial.  
  
"Ah. The scariest urban legend."  
  
Bean gave Harry a concerned look. "Aren't you gonna be cold like that?"  
  
"Not with the increasing effects of global warming, I won't."  
  
Most of them chuckled. It was an uneasy sound that came with knowing they might not actually survive long enough to worry about that sort of thing anymore. Food. Warmth over the winter. Sickness. Student loan debt and rising sea levels seemed like such a distant problem, in their new town.  
  
The big event distracted them, anyways. There were a few different activities going on. In one area, there was a big barrel where people were bobbing for apples, provided by someone who was lucky enough to have an apple tree in their yard. Blake and a few theater kids were doing face painting, and Clark had offered up his pick-up truck for rides along the more picturesque parts of town. All the carved pumpkins were scattered around with candles, and people had gathered up bags of leaves to scatter around the field. A little ways out, there was a bonfire going, where people were serving cups of hot cider, and roasting hot dogs and marshmallows. Someone had brought a speaker system, and cheesy Halloween music filled the air along with the smells of wood smoke, caramelized sugar, and spices.  
  
A solid half of the group got their faces painted, and after seeing how cute it was, Allie gave in, too. Campbell politely declined, as did Luke, Helena, and Harry. Surprising Campbell, Harry decided to bob for apples; he looked like a soggy dog when he came back up, but he did have an apple and won that round. He winked at Campbell when no one was looking, and Campbell rolled his eyes. Show off, even when it was apple bobbing.  
  
"I guess they converted the school into a haunted house," Kelly said after they'd gotten cider and snacks at the bonfire. "Wanna go, anyone?"  
  
Everyone agreed, except for Becca, who's eyes were pointedly on Campbell when she refused. "No thanks, I'm a little tired. I'll just stay here by the fire."  
  
Sam signed to her. "We'll come get you in a little bit."  
  
"Okay. Have fun."  
  
Campbell started to leave with the group, but then paused. He waited until they were a ways away before turning back to Becca. "Look, I don't want a fight, but you clearly are pissed off at me for some reason." He didn't want to bring up what Sam said. "I don't understand why."  
  
"Really?" Becca glowered at him. "You're playing that card?"  
  
"What card? One day we're kinda friends, and when I took you home after what happened at Harry's party, you just--"  
  
" _Fuck you_ , Campbell."  
  
"Becca, just tell me what I did. I can try to fix it or something."  
  
Standing up, Becca raised her voice until she was practically yelling. "Fix it? You can't fix what you did to me! How dare you? Maybe you've got Sam and Allie and Grizz fooled, but not me. I know what you did. And one of these days, so will everyone else, and you'll get what you deserve."  
  
"So you think I did it." Campbell had suspected, but it still felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. "Becca, I don't know what you remember, but I didn't do it. I found you, and I helped you get home. That was it."  
  
"Leave me the fuck alone! Get away from me!"  
  
People were starting to stare. Campbell opened his mouth, shut it again, and turned to follow after everyone else. He froze when he saw that Elle was standing not too far away; she had stopped when she'd noticed Campbell wasn't with them, probably, and now she was looking at him with a look that chilled even him.  
  
Campbell approached her, slow and with care. "Babe, I don't know what you heard, but--"  
  
"We should catch up with the others."  
  
"Elle."  
  
"Please. Not now."  
  
Clenching his teeth, Campbell followed silently behind Elle as she made her way to the school. No, he wanted to shout. No, we're not leaving it like this. You have to listen to me, you have to believe me. But if Campbell were Elle, he knew he wouldn't believe him, either. Becca was a straightforward, no bullshit kind of person. Honest, with a spotless record, and she was well-liked. She was Sam's friend since childhood. She'd never been Campbell's friend, really, but they knew each other. He'd had opportunity. It didn't look good, and if it got out, how would he be able to defend himself? How could he fight that, without hurting Becca?  
  
He didn't know. All he knew was that the rest of the night was a blur, and by the time they all got home, the evening was thoroughly ruined. Harry kept his mouth shut and hid in his room; he could sense there was a storm brewing, and Campbell didn't blame him for wanting nothing to do with it. Elle fled upstairs. Campbell gave her a few minutes, and then went up. She was sitting in her own bathroom, staring at the mirror. It looked like she'd planned to take her make up off, but she hadn't started yet. Elle just... stared at her reflection.  
  
"Babe?" Campbell called softly. "Can we talk?"  
  
"Is she telling the truth?"  
  
The cutting, dangerous edge to Elle's voice was enough to make Campbell swallow. Hard. "How do you mean that, exactly?"  
  
"You know what I mean."  
  
"No, I don't. Do you mean about being attacked, or it being me who did it?"  
  
"Did you rape Becca?"  
  
"Jesus, Elle." Running his hand through his hair, Campbell sat down on the floor just outside the bathroom. "No. I didn't rape her."  
  
"So she's lying?"  
  
"I'm not saying she's lying. She was attacked at a party Harry threw with the football team and some college assholes from outside of town. We went together as friends, I lost sight of her, and when I found her it had already happened. I made sure she got home, but she was pretty out of it. She refuse to go to the hospital and she told me not to tell anyone. The next day, she blocked my number and hasn't spoken to me since. I believe that she thinks it was me, but it wasn't."  
  
Elle was watching him in the mirror, expression completely closed off and eyes blank. "You know how this looks, right? You know how many guys say it wasn't them when they get accused."  
  
"I know, and I know that ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the victim is right. I'm not saying Becca wasn't attacked. Hell, I understand why she thinks it's me. Trust me, if I could find the dirtbag who hurt her, I'd rip their fucking head off. But I don't know who it was. I just know it wasn't me."  
  
Turning on the sink, Elle began to remove her make up. She didn't speak. She didn't look at him. He didn't try and make her. They just both sat there in their own thoughts. Campbell knew that she was going to leave. It was all too much, and he knew that. His shitty temper, his moodiness, what happened with Sam and then Cassandra, Charlie vanishing, and now this. Even if he didn't or hadn't done everything he was accused of, Campbell knew he was difficult to deal with, and he knew he'd done enough to be suspect. Why would she stay with someone like him?  
  
"I need a night to just clear my head, I think," Elle finally said. She frowned and fiddled with her hair. "Is that okay?"  
  
"Of course. Take the time you need."  
  
"Thank you. Goodnight, Campbell."  
  
He stood and went to his room. Elle shut the door behind him, and the sound of the lock to her door clicking shut sounded a lot like the sound of his heart cracking. He paced his room for a while, after that. Elle was just scared. It made sense. He loved her, and she must have loved him too, otherwise she'd have left long ago. Maybe he could talk with Sam and see if Becca would talk to him. Hear him out, in a quieter environment with Sam or someone else there to help her feel safe. Maybe if Campbell explained what he remembered, it would help her, too. But what if it didn't? What if it made things worse, or Elle left before then, or left anyways?  
  
Crawling into bed, Campbell sighed. Happy fucking Halloween. His gaze moved to the clock by his bed. Well, not Halloween anymore. It was a little past midnight. It was November 1st. Almost winter. A bad time to find one's self isolated. His bed felt cold, he felt cold, and something in him felt... off, detached, shivering and alone, even with other people in the same house. It had been a while since he'd felt that way. Best to get used to it. Things were only going to get colder. Literally and metaphorically, it seemed. But Harry still looked at him warmly. Grizz was a friend. And Sam. Sam was there for him, too, maybe.  
  
Campbell closed his eyes. He just had to take his own advice.  
  
_Find a reason, and keep going._


	3. Chapter 3

The house felt empty.  
  
Campbell went about his life, because he didn't know what else to do. Elle kept to herself, going to work and coming home. Rinse and repeat. It felt like the same fucking song and dance they'd been through before-- come together, pull apart, come together, pull apart, like some sadomasochistic ocean tide. She did her own thing, and Campbell focused on work and Sam and Harry, because it kept Campbell from getting destructive.   
  
Sometimes, they would sit together at mealtimes, or mull about the same part of the house. Someone would crack a joke, or hum one of their favorite songs, and just for a second they would forget. They would smile at each other, and Campbell felt that little flicker of affection, but then Elle's face would fall and she would look away.   
  
He still saved the little mini candy bars out of the rations he got, and left them on her nightstand. If he noticed her laundry stacking up, he'd wash them while she was at work and fold them neatly. Campbell knew there was some deeper feeling on the other side of the bomb shelter door that was his heart, but what could he do, besides what he was doing?  
  
It would have been easy to be angry, but Campbell didn't have the energy to spend on that, or on pining after Elle like some lovesick child. It hurt, _fuck_ it hurt, but in the end there wasn't anything he could do to convince her. Even if there was, he didn't want to. She needed to decide for herself what she believed, and where she wanted to be. It was like seeing a houseplant dying. He could try and water it. He could give it sunlight, and talk sweetly to it. But at the end of the day, if the roots were rotted out, he couldn't save it. All he could do was mourn the loss.  
  
Harry, on the other hand, was still there. Harry needed him.   
  
Campbell was mopping a hallway when he heard a commotion from the next room, where Harry was working. The two week break had ended. Harry was back to work. He was making an effort, but Campbell could tell that he was still run down. Tired. And, well, they all were tired. But Harry was the kind of tired that a good night of sleep couldn't fix. Campbell saw that look in a few people's eyes. No one talked about it, but it was there. It was there a lot more often, lately.  
  
A few people were less than sympathetic. "That's against the rules," a redhead was snapping at Harry. "No shift-shirking. I'll tell the guard."  
  
Harry was standing there, head bowed as he curled in on himself. "And you wonder why no one liked you in school."  
  
"I know that you used to strut around like you owned the place, but what exactly makes you think you're so special now?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
The redhead, someone Campbell knew from a few classes over the years, stomped out of the room and past Campbell. Gretchen. Not usually a cruel person, but he made a note in his head to let Allie know about Gretchen's tendency to text her girlfriend when she was supposed to be working. Just in case.   
  
Harry managed to slink his way out into the hall, once no one was looking. "I've only been working three days," he mumbled. Campbell could see that Harry's hands had little cracks in the skin. "I never knew I was this weak."  
  
"You're not weak. It's just cold, and your skin is dry. C'mon. Follow me."  
  
They ended up at a little room where Campbell had stashed some health care supplies. Band aids, ointment, alcohol wipes. Harry watched as Campbell took his hand and gently cleaned up the abrasions. "That's not what I meant. It's.... I want to work. I do. But I wake up, and I feel so heavy. Every move takes so much effort. It hurts."  
  
Campbell slowly massaged Neosporin into the cracks, frowning, and then wrapped the wounds in a loose bandage. "Yeah, buddy. Depression is like that. It sucks."  
  
"I used to see kids online or in movies and I'd think, wow, just pull yourself together. But how? How do you do it when all you want to do is sleep?"   
  
"Get help, usually."  
  
"You're the only help I have."  
  
"That's frightening."  
  
Harry rested his other hand on top of Campbell's own. He sounded angry when he spoke, but his gaze was soft. "It's not frightening to me," he said. "I want you to know that. I don't care what other people say."  
  
His hands were warm. Campbell stared down at them, counting off the days in his head since he'd last felt meaningful touch. Eighteen days. Not long, really, but he'd gone most of his life without it and he'd just started to think that maybe it was something good. Something he needed, after all. To be without it again made him more uncomfortable than he thought it would. Still. He didn't want to, he couldn't, give up on Elle yet.   
  
"You say that now, but wait until you end up with a foot sewn onto your hand or something."  
  
Before Harry could reply, Campbell pulled away and went back to work.  
  
The next day was Sunday, and Sunday was-- officially, by Allie's rules-- mandatory community meeting day. Campbell tried to act like he was paying attention, but Helena was going on and on about improv classes, football, and family shit. Blah. Allie came up on stage and that was slightly more interesting. Thanksgiving on Thursday the 22nd, bring recipes to Will for ingredients if people wanted to cook something to bring to the community dinner.   
  
"Next," Allie announced, "we have an update from the Committee on Resources."  
  
A voice rose up from the audience. Lexie. "What about the Committee on Going Home?"  
  
"Gordie and Bean promised me a report by Thursday."  
  
" _Are_ we going home?"  
  
"Not before Thursday."  
  
Campbell could see Lexie's face from his position in the pews. Her eyes were narrowed, jaw clenched, as other kids in the crowd giggled. She was embarrassed. Angry. A bad movie on Allie's part, mocking people when her leadership was already in a precarious position.   
  
Luckily, Will got up there fast and began to explain the results of the food audit. It was the last sentence in his report that drew an audible gasp from those gathered. "We'll start to run low by next summer."  
  
"So we're all going to fucking starve?" another person called out.  
  
"Not if we prepare now." Will gave the crowd a confident, assured smile. It was tight around the edges, and it didn't reach his eyes, but he was trying. "We knew this was going to happen. We have time to find solutions. Grizz has come up with a plan that will help us. Grizz?"  
  
Grizz froze, but then joined Will on the stage. Compared to Will, he was stiff and awkward, but at least he managed to not throw up. "Uh..." He cleared his throat. "We're gonna start looking into options for gardening and farming. There's been a few options suggested that we're exploring." Grizz glanced at Campbell. So, they had listened to Campbell's suggestion after all, but decided not to do shit about it yet. "And after Thanksgiving, I'm going to lead a search party to look for alternative food supplies."  
  
"Does he not remember what happened last time?" Harry wondered, a little too loudly. "Emily died from a fucking snake bite."  
  
Ignoring the unsettled buzzing in the room, Grizz continued. "If anyone wants to join me, I'm looking for four or five volunteers to come along with me. We all know what happened to Emily. This time will be different. We know what to expect now, and we can better defend ourselves."  
  
Lexie, apparently, wasn't done with Allie and Company yet. "Even if this all works out, who's gonna work the land?"  
  
"We will," Allie spoke up. "All of us. Some of us already know how. They can teach us what they know, and the rest, we'll learn from books. Just like how we learned to do everything else around here. What other choice do we have?"  
  
 _No choice._ They all knew that was true, even if no one wanted to admit it. Helena had been right, earlier, during her big long speech-- they were trapped. What else could they do, except fight to survive?   
  
Campbell sighed, standing up to leave when the crowd was dismissed for the day. He'd made it a few paces when he realized he was alone. Going back, he nudged Harry a bit with his elbow. "Hey. Earth to Harry."  
  
"We're just kids." He was staring down at his hand, running his fingers over the bandages. "How are we supposed to handle all of this, alone?"  
  
"Kids a lot younger than us have been figuring this shit out for eons. We can do it."  
  
Harry sat for a little bit longer, then pushed himself to his feet and trudged after Campbell. Elle got home not long after they did. Instead of going up to her room like she usually did, she lingered around the living room while Campbell tidied up.  
  
"Do you have any plans?" she asked. "I thought maybe we could go to movie night."  
  
Campbell blinked at the sudden offer. Elle was looking at him with some measure of expectation in her eyes; maybe she'd decided to believe him, after all. "Sure. I'd like that, if you want to go."  
  
And it was as easy as that. Harry stayed home, giving Campbell a nod of encouragement as they headed out the door. They went to the movie, got popcorn, and laughed and leaned on each other like a normal couple. Campbell tried to ignore the tone of the movie. _500 Days of Summer_ wasn't exactly the most cheerful of RomComs. He tried even harder to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of his head that something was wrong. Again. Like always.  
  
It was a sudden thought in his head. This isn't normal. How was it healthy, for him to constantly be wondering what was going on? How was it healthy for _Elle_ , if she felt like she had to pretend all the time that things were fine? Maybe they would have stood a chance back home, outside of the rat cage they were in now, or maybe if Cassandra hadn't died. But here? In the new world? Maybe they were just fooling themselves.   
  
Elle must have picked up on his mood. On the way home, she slowed down a bit and took his hand. "I know the last few weeks have been crap. But I've missed you. If you say you weren't involved, I believe you."  
  
"You don't have to pretend," Campbell replied. "It's okay."  
  
"But it's too hard to live like this. I just want us to go back to normal."   
  
"It just doesn't really feel that way, Elle. I don't know. I get that it's terrifying, but I'm innocent and I'm gonna find some way to prove it. If you want to keep your distance until then, I'll understand."  
  
"I don't want to. Why don't we try and patch things up over Thanksgiving?" Elle asked, curling her arms around his waist and peering up at him with an adoring expression Campbell couldn't resist. "We could stay home, just you and me. I'm sure Allie won't mind."  
  
Campbell buried his face in Elle's hair. He slid one hand behind her head and rested the other one her hip, and breathed her in. The breeze was cold, and carried a hint of woodsmoke. He memorized the way she fit in his hands, before kissing her forehead and letting go. "Sure. If that's what you want."  
  
Allie was sitting out on her porch the next day, drinking tea and staring off into the woods. No one else was around. Odd for her. She barely seemed to notice Campbell approaching, but then he stepped through the scattering of crunchy leaves on the walkway, and she snapped out of whatever trance she'd been in.   
  
"Hey, cousin. How are you?"  
  
"I was just..." Allie glanced back at the woods, then shook her head. "You shouldn't be here. It's not exactly Campbell-friendly right now."  
  
"You too, huh?"  
  
"It doesn't seem your style, but I guess we never really know anyone."  
  
Campbell turned his eyes to the trees for a moment, too, thinking. "Be careful with Lexie. I just thought I should let you know that she's not someone you wanna piss off. She's popular, and a lot of girls who hate you like her."  
  
"Noted."  
  
"I'm serious, Allie."  
  
"Fine. I'll keep an eye on her. What do you want?"  
  
Shrugging, Campbell kicked at the leaves. "Elle wants to have dinner at home on Thanksgiving. Just the two of us. Can we do that?"  
  
"Elle wants to stay home?"  
  
"Surprised me, too. So? Can we get a free pass?"  
  
Allie looked him up and down. She looked away and chewed on her thumb, jiggling her leg as she considered. "Might be better if you do. Until we can figure out what to do about you and Becca, it's only going to piss people off to see you."  
  
"Is that something that _can_ be resolved?"  
  
"I think so. But you know that if she's right about what she said and it was you, there's no way in hell I'm just letting you go again."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
"I'll let Will know you're staying home. Have Elle give him the list of what you guys need, and we'll make sure it's ready for pick-up the night before."  
  
"Thanks, Allie."  
  
"Campbell?" Allie called after him. He stopped, looking over his shoulder. Allie pulled her jacket in tighter around herself. "You told Cassandra everything. Everything. She wouldn't have just let you walk away, if it'd been you."  
  
"Maybe. Whatever keeps you from throwing me into the fucking wine cellar."  
  
"Sometimes I think I still see her. Out of the corner of my eye."  
  
It was just blurted out, like some sort of terrible secret. Campbell paused, then kept going without responding. _Me too_ , he wanted to say, but what good did it do to dwell on memories or hallucinations or imprints left behind? There was nothing he could say that would give Allie the comfort she needed, or soothe the pain left behind by Cassandra's death. Better to say nothing at all.  
  
Besides, the dead were dead. The living had plenty to worry about. Campbell was in the middle of his work shift the day before Thanksgiving when Sam showed up, deep creases on his forehead and a jittery, restless energy around him. At first, Campbell wondered if Sam had shown up to see one of his friends-- he and Gretchen had been part of the school LGBT Alliance group-- but he headed right at Campbell with the same look he'd had when they'd first arrived in the new world. Something a few paces beyond worry.  
  
"Can we talk?" Sam asked, signing only. "Somewhere private?"  
  
Campbell nodded and followed Sam outside the main work area, where no one would easily see them. "What's wrong?" he signed back. "You look like _Queer Eye_ got cancelled."  
  
Sam tried to laugh, but broke into tears instead. "Becca's pregnant."  
  
Fuck. Campbell moved closer, inviting contact; Sam immediately mushed himself against Campbell. Sam was whimpering something, but like hell if Campbell understood it. Pregnant. Becca was _pregnant_. Campbell's first reaction was almost something like victory-- a baby meant blood, blood meant a blood test, blood test meant potential vindication. He shoved that thought aside and focused on what his real reaction should be. Was Becca healthy? Was she getting vitamins? How would they manage complications? Hell, who was going to help her give birth? It wasn't something anyone could do on their own. And if anything happened to Becca, Sam...  
  
"I don't know," Sam continued. "I found out prom night, and then everything happened and I thought we had time to figure things out. But Kelly found out, and other people will soon, too, and I just... I don't know what to do."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Sam hesitated. Oh, there was more to the story. He let out a long, slow exhale, his hands shaking when he answered. "We agreed to tell people I'm the father."  
  
"You?" Campbell thought over it. Becca and Sam were best friends. Sure, people could ask questions, but people did weird stuff all the time. People sometimes dabbled, and after all, bisexual people existed. Who was to say? Plus it was a softer story. Unfortunately, there was one big flaw. "Will people go for it, considering what people overheard at Halloween?"  
  
"We're not kids anymore. I've learned how to lie."  
  
"Well, then. Why are you worrying?" When Sam didn't answer, Campbell ran the situation over in his head until he found the puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. Okay, so there were _two_ big flaws. "Something happened with Grizz."  
  
"He came to the library and tried to flirt with me in BSL, and I said I'd teach him ASL."  
  
Campbell tried to bite back a smirk. "How about that."  
  
"It's not going to be funny when he wants nothing to do with a teen dad!"  
  
"It'll be less funny if he hears it from someone else first. Tell him a good story, Sam. You experimented with her nine months ago, the condom broke, and you just want to be honest with him. Reasonable, right?"  
  
"Is it really that easy?"  
  
"Cross my heart."  
  
Sam studied Campbell's face. Whatever he was going to say, the ping of both of their phones going off at the same time cut him off. Community alert. "Time for the first group to pick up their food rations," he said, sighing. He glanced up from his phone. "Are you sure you don't want to come to Thanksgiving dinner?"  
  
"I feel like this dinner is kinda the last shot between me and Elle," Campbell admitted. "But I'm sure you know about those rumors, too."  
  
"Not really. I try not to listen."  
  
Campbell groaned while Sam chuckled quietly. "Seriously, funny guy, if you're set on the idea then maybe you could stop by after. We can eat walnuts out of the can and throw darts at a picture of dad."  
  
Sam rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny smile on his face. "A real family holiday." He rested his hand on Campbell's shoulder before he left. "Good luck, Campbell."  
  
"You, too. Go get 'im."  
  
Harry approached as Sam left, watching him walk away. "What was that about?"  
  
"It's nothing," Campbell muttered. Harry looked over at him and raised both eyebrows. Campbell let out a tiny growl. "Fine. It was just boyfriend troubles."  
  
"And he said something about Elle."  
  
"What, you can read ASL now?"  
  
"I thought you'd have been more concerned about the fact I was spying on you."  
  
Campbell shoved the broom he was using to the ground, giving it a kick for good measure. "Everything's going to hell, okay? The last thing I needed was this shit with Becca, but I can't even be mad about that because it's not like it's my life at stake or anything. Still, now things with Elle are fucked up. They've been fucked up for a while. I just don't see how we can bounce back from this when she doesn't trust me. Shitty Thanksgiving food isn't gonna fix anything."  
  
"No." Harry stepped into Campbell's line of fire, resting one hand on his cheek. "Hey. Breathe, okay? What's going on with Becca?"  
  
"Like you don't know."  
  
"I've been sleeping eighteen hours a day. I don't know anything."  
  
Campbell leaned into Harry's touch. The whole story came spilling out in one go, and Harry's eyes went wide. "I promised I wouldn't say anything," Campbell finished. "But I'm guessing she thinks it was me, and told Elle. Who fucking knows."  
  
"Jesus fucking Christ. I had no idea. I never heard anything about it."  
  
"No one bragged about it around school, either."  
  
"That's scary shit. Poor Becca. Why is this coming up now, though?"  
  
"Becca..." Trailing off, Campbell shook his head. Sam shouldn't have told Campbell in the first place, but Campbell sure as hell didn't have the right to pass the news along. It wasn't his secret to tell. "I guess it all got to be too much to keep to herself."  
  
"I guess. Damn. And Elle?"  
  
"You can't tell me you haven't noticed how she's been acting."  
  
"I have, but I guess I just... I was hoping it would blow over."  
  
"Either it'll work out or it won't. That's just the truth of it."  
  
Harry brushed Campbell's cheek with his thumb, then pulled back and picked up the fallen broom. He handed it to Campbell. "Look. I'll go to the Thanksgiving dinner with everyone else so you can have the house to yourselves. Have a nice night. Relax. Be your charming, vaguely exasperating self. Things will work out eventually."  
  
What answer could Campbell give? He managed to mumble a thank you, took the broom, and kept working. Campbell had always known that his life would be different than it would be for people who weren't like him. In a lot of ways, he was still lucky. He'd had a roof over his head and access to resources a lot of people didn't have. He'd had some sort of support structure, and managed to pull himself out of the dirt enough to work towards some sort of recover. Some sort of normal. But he _wasn't_ like everyone else. His biology and brain chemistry had seen to that, and he knew it was going to be a lifelong struggle to maintain a balance between what felt natural to him and what he knew society demanded.   
  
Maybe losing Elle was the price for getting Sam back, for making a friend in Grizz. When one door opens, some other door closes. Campbell knew it was the ASPD telling him that it was already over, time to brace for impact and be ready to move on when the fatal blow came, but it felt so real. So true. Elle had already been through enough. Her mouth said she wanted to keep trying, but he could see it in her eyes that the time of death had already been called. They just didn't know when it was, yet.  
  
But... One more try. One more chance.  
  
Thanksgiving morning, they went to the cafeteria to pick up their take-home rations. It was as fancy as it got, these days-- boxed stuffing, instant mashed potatoes with instant gravy, a can of cranberry sauce, and a turkey. Elle sneaked away with a small bundle of goods wrapped in plastic grocery bags. Mysterious, but Campbell wasn't about to pry.   
  
When they got home, Campbell tried to help unpack the food, but Elle swatted his hand away from the bags. "Can you get the bowl?"  
  
Campbell snagged the mixing bowl Elle had gestured to and handed it to her; Elle was busying herself with the food, and didn't even look at him. "This makes me happy," he said, trying to start some sort of conversation. "Our first Thanksgiving together."  
  
"Good." When he went to open something for her, Elle put her hand on his chest. "It's gonna take me a few hours, so I need you to get out of the kitchen."  
  
"Oh. I thought..."  
  
"It's okay. Go amuse yourself. Go and take a nap."  
  
The casual tone to Elle's voice didn't really do much to mask the dismissal. Maybe she was just nervous about cooking? Campbell stepped out of the way, but stopped near the edge of the kitchen. "I was just hoping to help. I never really liked Thanksgiving before this."  
  
"No? Why not?"  
  
"I mean, you know what my parents were like. Holidays, special occasions. They didn't really want me around other kids. Other families."  
  
"You did tell me about that."  
  
"Forced affection and merriment really isn't my thing." Campbell noticed the odd look Elle gave him. "It was just difficult, seeing that they actually felt all those Hallmark movie things towards each other. They really missed each other. Just eating together made them happy. They really were sad to say goodbye."  
  
Elle stopped arranging the ingredients. "But _you_ didn't feel those things."  
  
"Maybe I gave up, when I realized they didn't feel that way about me. They never missed me." Moving towards Elle, Campbell stroked her hair. It hit him then, how much he wanted her to stay. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. He knew he sounded desperate when he spoke again, when he cupped her face in his hands, but Campbell needed some assurance. Any assurance. "This is different, though. Right? We're different."  
  
"Campbell." Elle took his hands and moved them from her face. She stepped back, and for a moment, Campbell thought that was it. She was done, it was over, they couldn't go on like this. Instead, she reached into the plastic bag and brought out a can of pumpkin. "It was going to be a surprise, but..."   
  
"Really? I thought you hated pumpkin pie. You like, literally gagged when you saw it at the Halloween party."  
  
"I mean, I do, but you don't." She gave him a little kiss on the cheek before shooing him. "Now get out of my kitchen so I can cook."  
  
Had he just misread the situation? Campbell left the kitchen confused, and more than a little torn. Was he just seeing a catastrophe where there wasn't one? ASPD did involve seeing threats where there wasn't any, and overreacting. Like a self defense mechanism dialed up to twelve, it whispered that every little thing and every single person was a danger. Campbell knew it wasn't true. Maybe in this case, it also wasn't true that Elle wanted to leave. Maybe she really was just stressed out and worried about what Becca had said. Maybe she really did want to stick it out and give him a chance to prove himself. She had before, hadn't she? Maybe this time was no different. She just needed time.  
  
Campbell wandered off to Harry's room, helping him get ready for the group dinner and playing a few rounds of Smash Bros. It didn't feel right letting Elle do all the work, but if that was what she wanted, well, they both knew to just stay out of her way.   
  
"I should go watch the football game," Harry sighed once it was three o' clock. He stood and stretched, grabbing his jacket from the back of his desk chair. "Try and be social or whatever. You gonna be okay if I do?"  
  
"Yeah. Go watch people get concussions."  
  
"I'll have my phone on. Text if she tries to go all Sid Vicious on you."  
  
Campbell snorted, but kept his eyes on the television screen. He could see Harry lingering in the doorway, just for a moment, but then he was gone. Harry said something to Elle on the way out-- they both laughed-- and then the front door shut. The silence felt strange. Campbell popped in a Walking Dead DVD and settled in to binge watch for a few hours.  
  
The sky outside had turned dark by the time Elle peeked her head into the room. "Hey. I think it's gonna be ready in about twenty minutes. Can you come set the table?"  
  
"Sure, babe."   
  
At least it was finally something to do. Campbell hopped up and gathered the plates, the silverware, napkins; by the time Elle came into the dining room, he'd managed to get everything in place and light some candles. The dim, golden lighting was perfect. All the food, plated up, looked perfect. Campbell found some holiday music, some classical stuff that he'd swore he'd never listen to once he'd moved out on his own, and put it on. It wasn't his taste, but it seemed appropriate. All that was left was to bring in the food.  
  
Elle was hovering around the food in the kitchen, staring hard at the slices of carved turkey. "I know you don't like meat, so I didn't know if I should bring the turkey out here, or if you wanted something else instead."  
  
"Hey, it's okay. I mean, I have to get over it eventually, right? Why not tonight?"  
  
"Are you sure? Because I could--"  
  
Cutting off a tiny piece of the least gross-looking slice of turkey, Campbell shoved it in his mouth. The taste was foreign and made him want to gag, but he managed to get it down without flinching. "See? It'll be really good with the cranberry sauce."  
  
"I'm glad it's okay. Sorry if anything tastes funny, or something. It's the first time I've ever made anything like a traditional American meal."  
  
"Seriously? Why not?"  
  
"My family's from Ireland originally, so my mom's idea of Thanksgiving was a little different. You know. Lamb stew. We never did the whole, turkey and stuffing and decorating."  
  
"Why are we sitting here, then?" Campbell wondered. "We should be at the church with everyone else. We could even bring something to share. The pie or something. Be neighborly."  
  
"But I already made all this food, I wouldn't want it to go to waste."  
  
"C'mon. We can put it in the fridge and save it for leftovers. I mean, I don't wanna even see half of those people, but you liked Helena and Becca, and the improv class is doing something fun tonight. A traditional Thanksgiving really is best with friends."  
  
"No, no. I just, I had my heart set on a romantic evening, just the two of us."  
  
"We eat almost every meal, just us." Campbell couldn't puzzle out the sudden shift in Elle's mood. "Or with Harry. I thought maybe you'd like some variation."  
  
Elle met his eyes, then glanced at the food. "Maybe it would be nice to walk over there and see everyone. Do you want to try a slice of pie while I get ready to go? I don't want to take it if it tastes bad."  
  
"Deal."  
  
She gave him a smile as she cut him a generous slice, handing it over as she left the room. Campbell let out the breath he'd been holding; whatever weird argument that had been starting up seemed to have, thankfully, settled. He snagged a fork and took a bite of the pumpkin pie. Right away, Campbell could taste that there was something weird about it. It was too sweet, in an almost sickening way. Too much condensed milk? Maple syrup, maybe?   
  
Making sure Elle wasn't looking, Campbell gently slid the rest of the slice into the garbage can and covered it up with some pieces of trash to hide it. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, and it wasn't like it was objectively disgusting. There were just only so many compromises he could make in a night. Turkey, he could try and deal with. Pumpkin pie with a pound of sugar? No. Leave that to the carb fiends at the church.  
  
"Was it okay?" Elle asked as she came back in. "I've never made a pie before."  
  
Campbell offered her a bright smile. "Yeah, it was great." He picked it up and headed towards the door, slipping his feet into his sneakers. "Ready to go?"  
  
She eyed the pie in his hands, but nodded and followed him out the door. The walk to the church was quiet, but at least the weather was mild and the sky was clear, with stars glittering overhead and leaves swirling around their feet. The church was humming with activity inside, though more than a couple people fell silent when they saw Campbell. Well, whatever. He ignore them and focused on Allie, who was moving toward them at a brisk pace.  
  
"Campbell. Elle." She smiled, but it was strained. "I didn't expect to see you two here."  
  
What the hell were you thinking by coming here, Campbell translated in his head. "I wanted to bring Elle. It's her first actual Thanksgiving." He held up the pumpkin nightmare for Allie to see. Allie's eyes went right to the missing slice. "She made pie."  
  
"Wow. Well, if you guys want to take a seat, feel free."  
  
"Cool. Thanks."  
  
Elle reached out and grabbed his arm as he moved towards the table to set the pie down. "Campbell, I can do that. Just let me--"  
  
"I'm right here. I can do it."  
  
"But I made it. I should be the one to put it over there."  
  
Campbell stopped and looked to her. Her voice sounded almost frantic, and honestly, the pie wasn't anywhere close to good but she couldn't possibly be that worried about it. He set the pie down among the other pies, and led Elle off to the side where there weren't any people to listen in. "Babe, are you feeling okay? You've been acting weird all evening."  
  
"I'm just not feeling well. I feel sick in my stomach. Can we just go?"  
  
"It's probably because we haven't eaten all day."  
  
"Please..." Elle curled her arms around herself. "Please don't get mad."   
  
Campbell noticed, then, that there were tears in her eyes, and she winced when he went to try and comfort her. His stomach sank as he saw the one thing he had hoped not to see. Fear. "Woah, hey. I'm not mad, sweetheart, I just don't understand what's going on. Do you... Are you worried I'm gonna hurt you?"  
  
"You act one way sometimes, and then another, and then people say things and I just want to make you happy. I thought this would make you happy." Her hands were shaking when she reached up and touched his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I want you to be happy with me."  
  
He wanted to be sick. "I get it. We've had a lot of ups and downs since we came here. I'm trying my best, Elle. I am happy with you. I really am." His throat squeezed shut. Fuck, he didn't feel all that great, either, and all this wasn't helping. "Can you just try? Just a few bites or something? If you still feel sick, we can go home."  
  
Elle sniffled. She didn't say anything. She just turned and headed out to the main floor, heading towards the table where Gretchen, her girlfriend, and a few others were chatting. Campbell got her a plate of food, but she picked at it, and at that point he didn't really feel like eating. It had been a mistake to push her. He tried to plan out the apology in his head and find some way to save things, but Elle's words kept playing in his head. _People say things._ The way she shrank from his touch.   
  
It was time to let go. For now, anyways. Maybe someday he would be better, and could prove that he wasn't the piece of shit people kept saying he was, but obviously it wasn't the right time. Campbell had wanted to protect her. He'd hoped that maybe, together, they could stay sane. But he had once been afraid he would hurt Sam, inevitably. Instead, it looked like the one he was going to hurt most was Elle, and there was only one way to keep her safe. Like Sam, he had to let her go, and hope that someday it would work out.   
  
Things had seemed calmer, at least, until Elle mumbled something about more potatoes.  
  
She took her plate and vanished into the crowd without a word, leaving Campbell to sit there alone with Gretchen looking at him like he was sprouting devil horns. Campbell sunk his head into his hands and pretended he was anywhere but there. After a few minutes, hen Elle didn't come back, he decided to go looking. He found her arguing with someone else over her pie. Elle had taken a huge slice, and the other girl-- Lotus, maybe-- was giving her shit over it. Campbell sidled up next to Elle and fixed Lotus with a cold glare, and thankfully, Lotus backed down. Not before taking the rest of the pie with her, but still.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked Elle, who looked pale. "What happened?"  
  
Elle smiled weakly. "I just wanted to make sure all my friends got some, but I guess Lotus thought I was taking it all for myself."  
  
"Well, screw her, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm just gonna go say hi to a couple of my friends."  
  
"Sure. I'll be here."  
  
Campbell was loitering around the punchbowl, waiting for Elle, when a hand glided along his shoulders. He could smell a familiar hint of cologne. "Hey, Harry."  
  
"Hey." Harry leaned against the wall next to him. "I thought you were staying home. What happened?"  
  
"Long story, but I guess we're going back home. She said she felt sick."  
  
"Do you need me to drive you guys?"  
  
Unfortunately, Helena stood up and gave a speech just then, and announced that she and Luke were getting married. Campbell hissed at the cheering, a headache building up behind his eyes and making his vision start to swim. What the hell? Maybe they had some sort of cold, or something. It was the season, and it wasn't like anyone had gotten their flu vaccines, or knew what new or different diseases the mirror world had.  
  
"Yeah, that might be good." He took a step, and the ground under him spun ever so slightly. Fuck. Why had he even tried? They should have just stayed home. "Let me go find her."  
  
"Alright. I'll meet you at the door."  
  
Campbell scanned the crowd as Harry left, trying to find Elle in the hustle and bustle. Maybe Sam or Grizz would know where she was? But he didn't see them, either. Allie's table was empty. Helena and Luke were with the rest of the guard. Where was she? Had she just left on her own, without even saying goodbye? Campbell felt a bubble of nausea form in his stomach at the thought, but then he spotted her with Becca near the bathrooms. Both of them were huddled together and making sharp, urgent gestures. Campbell had no idea what was going on with them, and he wasn't about to find out. It would be easier to just wait until they were done talking.  
  
It didn't take too long. Elle spotted him waiting, and hurried over. "Can we go home now?" she asked. Elle was hunched in on herself and looked out of breath. "Please? I want to get out of here."  
  
"Harry's getting the car. C'mon."  
  
He put his arm around her as they walked outside, more to hold himself steady than anything else. Campbell could feel Elle shaking, hard, but was that illness or anxiety? Was it the cold weather? He didn't know anymore. All that mattered was getting home before whatever was going on got even worse. Harry helped them both up the steps, and got them upstairs. Elle shrugged them both off and headed to the bathroom, grabbing her pajamas along the way.  
  
"Are you okay?" Campbell followed her into the bathroom. He just wanted to lay down and sleep, but he couldn't leave Elle to fend for herself if she was sick. "Do you need me to get you anything?"  
  
Elle shook her head, but when he got closer, he could see that she was sheet-white and sweating. "I'm gonna take a bath and get sleep."  
  
"Yeah, me too." Campbell knew that he should leave and let her do what she needed to do, but he hesitated in the doorway. "Look, Elle... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed for you to go when you didn't want to. I just thought it'd be fun."  
  
Silence.   
  
Campbell waited another heartbeat, then went to his room and laid down. He closed his eyes, willing the universe to stop spinning. It was bad enough of a day, wasn't it, without everything churning? Campbell burrowed under his blankets, swallowing over and over as he began to hypersalivate. His stomach was reeling, but his body wouldn't vomit. Not yet.   
  
"Cassandra," Campbell whispered to the air. "I wish you were here."  
  
He could play the game he played on the bridge, before.  
  
If he just held still, very still...


	4. Chapter 4

The edge of his mattress dipped.  
  
He didn’t know when he drifted off, but Campbell stirred when a cool hand rested on his forehead. He shifted in his bed just a little, enough to feel the heaviness of someone sitting beside him. “Mmn?”  
  
 _“Campbell.”_  
  
That voice, soft and imploring, made Campbell jerk awake and sit up in bed. “Cassandra?”

No reply. Of course there was no reply– he was alone. He was breathing hard. His clothes were soaked in a cold sweat, and there was the sour taste of bile in his mouth. A fever dream. Nothing more. But Campbell could still feel that soothing touch on his skin, and maybe Harry had come in to check on him. Campbell managed to get up, wandering into the hallway. He’d just stepped out of his room when he heard a loud thud from the bathroom, followed by coughing.  
  
“What are you doing in there?” Campbell knocked on the door. “Elle?”   
  
A faint reply. “Go away.”  
  
What the fuck? Campbell blinked blearily at his phone as it buzzed in his hand, notifying him of a text from Will. _People getting sick fast. If you’re throwing up or having trouble standing, go to the hospital. Taking everyone there for safety._  
  
“I just got a text that people are sick. Are you?”  
  
“Go away!”  
  
Goddamn it. “Elle.” He pressed his ear to the door and could hear her say something, but he was done being polite. “I can’t hear you. I’m coming in, okay?”  
  
Opening the door, Campbell was greeted by the sight of Elle on the floor, eyes rolled up in her head as she shook and her back arched unnaturally. She was foaming at the mouth, and Campbell could hear her making choking sounds. “Oh, shit. Fuck.” He knelt at her side, trying to remember what some kid in 11th grade had told him about his epilepsy. Campbell gently cupped her head to keep it from hitting the side of the tub. “ _Harry!_ ”  
  
The scream that had come from him didn’t sound like his own voice. He couldn’t fall apart, he couldn’t, not now when Elle needed help. Harry was at his side, it seemed, almost instantly. He rushed into the bathroom, cursing under his breath as he helped Campbell move Elle to her side so she wouldn’t aspirate on her own vomit. Harry’s hand rested on his and squeezed. Grounding. He said something, but Campbell didn’t hear it; Elle had stopped seizing, and they didn’t have time to chat.  
  
“Get her to the car,” Harry ordered as he helped them down the stairs. “I’ll drive.”  
  
Campbell rushed outside as Harry got the keys. He was right on Campbell’s heels, opening the door and helping Campbell get Elle onto the back seat. Campbell held Elle’s head in his lap, keeping her on her side and making sure she didn’t fall as Harry peeled out of the driveway towards the hospital. Even speeding, it didn’t feel like they were moving fast enough.  
  
“Stay with me, babe. Come on. Hang in there, Elle. We’ll get you help.” He leaned closer when he heard a strange noise come from her throat. She felt cold, and he couldn’t feel her chest moving. “Harry, I don’t think she’s breathing. She’s not breathing.”  
  
“Pulling up in a minute, hold on.”  
  
Campbell buried his face into her hair. “I love you, Elle, don’t leave me like this.”  
  
The car screeched to a halt, and Harry jumped out and opened the door. He helped Campbell get Elle out of the car, and into Campbell’s arms; Campbell took off towards the emergency room doors as fast as he could. There was no one there, but as he rounded a corner it became clear why. The sound of throwing up, the smell of sickness in the air, the way people were moaning and crying… and exactly three people running around. Kelly, Gordie, and Will, all trying to scramble for supplies and figure out what the fuck to do.  
  
“Help! Goddamn it, someone help!” Campbell yelled. Fuck everyone else. At least they were conscious. “She had a seizure or something.”  
  
Kelly dropped the book she was holding and rushed over. “Is she breathing?”  
  
“I don’t know!”  
  
“Pulse and breathing, but it’s weak,” she answered as she checked Elle’s neck, and pressed her ear to Elle’s nose and mouth. Kelly turned to Will, who had appeared next to them. “She had a seizure, maybe. Help me get her to a bed.”  
  
They got her a bed in the corner, and everyone descended on her at once, shouting. Campbell paced back and forth, trying hard to not to shout at them to just do something. But then Kelly managed to place an IV and hook Elle up to a bag of fluids, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. Campbell sank into the chair next to Elle’s bedside, head between his knees. He could breathe now. They would save her, they _had_ to save her. It had to work.  
  
“Campbell?” Kelly’s voice was surprisingly soft. “Are you okay?”  
  
He looked up at her. Okay? How could he be? But then his brain caught up to their situation, and he realized Kelly had no idea who was and wasn’t sick. “I’m fine. Just dizzy.”  
  
“Did you throw up?”  
  
“No, I just. Woozy.”   
  
“That’s still worrying. We’ll get you something to drink. Okay?”  
  
But then Will came tearing over, and there was another flurry of activity. _Allie’s crashing_ , Campbell heard Kelly yell; they all rushed to the bed a few rows down. Campbell stood, tempted to go– he was family, for fuck’s sake– but what if Elle woke up? He didn’t want her to come back to an empty room. He sat back down, watching her face for some sign of consciousness. Nothing, but at least she was breathing, and as the minutes ticked by her color went from grey to a drained sort of pink.   
  
Harry walked in a while later. It had only been half an hour at most, but it had felt like days. “Sorry. I needed to give Sam and Grizz a ride here,” he said as he moved to Campbell’s side. “How is she?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Sitting in the chair next to Campbell’s own, Harry put his arm around Campbell and pulled him close. Campbell sunk against him, closing his eyes despite himself. “People can see.”  
  
But Harry didn’t move, and Campbell didn’t fight him. He sighed and let sleep claim him, even it was for just a short amount of time; Harry was warm and comfortable, and sleep meant he didn’t have to endure the sensation of his stomach contents trying to escape up his esophagus. A murmuring voice woke him not long after, though. Helena had entered their section, a Pedialyte in hand.  
  
“Kelly thought you might need this,” she said. Helena held out the drink. “How are you?”  
  
Campbell accepted it. “Tired, mostly.” He opened his mouth, intending to ask what was going on out there, when loud coughing and sputtering came from the hospital bed. “Elle?”  
  
Helena was right at her side, talking quietly to her as she took Elle’s pulse. Campbell couldn’t hear what Elle was saying, but Helena’s voice was clearer. “No. I mean, yes, but you’re going to be okay.” She made her voice gentler as Elle kept talking. “Elle, you’re going to be okay. Kelly put in an IV. See?”  
  
And that was when Campbell felt his world crash down.  
  
Elle stared at her arm, and began to shriek. “What? No, no!” She clawed at her arm, at the line, at Helena. “No, no, I don’t want it! No, no!”  
  
“Elle! Stop!”  
  
“No! No! Take it out!”  
  
Campbell tried to come over and help as Kelly and Gordie ran over, but the moment she saw him, Elle let out a piercing wail that sounded less like the woman he loved and more like some sort of unnatural thing clawing it’s way out of her lungs. Harry grabbed Campbell by the arm when he froze, pulling him out of the room and guiding him towards a side hall. They stood there for a moment, not speaking. Harry had his hand over his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. Campbell had the opposite problem. He had a million thoughts running through his head, and not a damn one would come out.  
  
From the main room, someone came their way. Grizz. He looked worried, but at least he looked fine otherwise. Campbell focused on him. “Are you okay?” he asked as Grizz drew closer. Focusing on other people was easier. “Is Sam sick?”  
  
“Hey, no, Sam’s fine. We’re both fine. Uh…” Grizz ran his hands through his hair. “Becca needed Sam, and I came with to be supportive. I’m, uh, I’m just gonna go get Gordie and Kelly some snacks. Keep their energy up.”  
  
Campbell followed Grizz as he walked away, cutting him off before he got too far. “Wanna fill me in on what’s going on?”  
  
“Man, I know you already know.”  
  
“Pretend I don’t. Talk to me.”  
  
Grizz looked at the floor and shuffled his foot. “Fuck. Sam told me that he and Becca fooled around, and she got pregnant by accident. I guess he didn’t know until prom. I’m glad he told me, and it’s not like I can judge people’s journeys or anything.”  
  
“But?”  
  
“It’s a lot. I need some time to think.”  
  
“You gonna be okay?”  
  
“Yeah. I guess. I just need to get used to it. And now all this happening, and I have to leave soon… Fuck, I hate it. It’s confusing. I just wanna focus on one thing at a time and make sure everyone else is okay before I freak out about my freshly minted love life.”  
  
Campbell stepped aside. “Well, good luck. Looks like we all need some.”  
  
“Tell me about it.” Grizz paused a few paces away. “You know, I always wanted to be a dad someday. I don’t know, maybe we could… I don’t know.”  
  
Campbell didn’t answer. He didn’t have anything worth sharing. Grizz wandered towards the cafeteria, and Campbell went back to Harry, who was standing at the end of the hallway and staring towards Elle’s bed. They couldn’t pretend forever that nothing had happened. Elle’s reaction had been visceral and undeniable. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.   
  
Helena thought so, too, judging by the way she was storming towards them. “What did you do to her, Campbell?” she snarled, as quietly as she could. “That was _not_ normal.”  
  
“I don’t fucking know, okay? I know what everyone thinks, but I didn’t hurt Becca or Elle. Sure, sometimes I’d punch a wall or yell, and I know that’s shit, but I never laid a hand on her. We were trying to work things out.”  
  
“Is that what you think?”  
  
“That’s what she told me!” Campbell snapped. “She said movie night that she wanted to try.”  
  
“And Harry? What about you?”  
  
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “Elle and I were friends, at least that’s what I thought. We spent time together. I mean, I’ve been living with her and Campbell for months. I never heard or saw anything that would make her react like that. Sure as hell didn’t do anything myself.”  
  
“Right.” Helena looked between them. After a moment, she folded her arms across her chest and settled her gaze on Campbell. “I feel like I shouldn’t believe you, but she’s awake and said she wants to go home with you two once she can. And I can’t stop her. But if I find out you–”  
  
Campbell held up his hands. “You’ve got guns, Helena. We know.”  
  
Helena pursed her lips and left, hopefully to go pray over Allie or preach abstinence to helpless victims. Whatever. Campbell leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, drinking the salty-sweet concoction Pedialyte called ‘fruit punch’ while Harry approached Elle’s room. He didn’t come back. Not for several hours. Campbell spent the time pacing, dozing on a cot her found in a random corner, and reading random pamphlets and medical books laying around the nearby rooms.  
  
The hospital had grown more quiet as the night progressed into early morning. The sound of retching and people running around gathering supplies faded to soft conversation, and occasionally snoring. Kelly was still awake, making rounds and checking up on everyone; she’d even stopped by to offer Campbell another Pedialyte, which was probably just her professional integrity at work, but he was grateful all the same.  
  
Harry came back around sunrise. “She’s sleeping.” He looked washed out under the fluorescent lights. Older. Drained. “Do you wanna come back? Kelly said that maybe said she was just hallucinating or something.”  
  
Going back to that room felt like walking to a funeral, but until Elle said that she wanted things to be over, he wasn’t going to just abandon her; Harry stayed with Campbell, both of them at Elle’s bedside and waiting. She’d been sick. She’d had a seizure. He’d never had one himself, but from what little he knew about them, they could make someone disoriented. Maybe he could have been convinced that was all there was to it, had Elle not said something to Helena, and had Helena not been so furious. What had Elle even said? He didn’t know, and probably never would.  
  
At least Elle was alive. She was starting to open her eyes, even though she only stared at the ceiling before closing them again. As the morning went on, she began to shift in her bed, before finally trying to sit up. Gordie, who had come to hook up another fluid bag, helped her up and made sure she was comfortable. Elle didn’t speak. Not until Kelly came back to talk to her, and see how she was feeling.  
  
“I feel better,” Elle said. She glanced at Campbell. “Really, I just want to go home.”  
  
Kelly nodded. “Alright. Let’s finish this IV bag, and see how you are. The others are looking good, too, so hopefully we can have everyone out of here soon.”  
  
Soon, as it turned out, was three hours later. Will left to go make sure lunch– breakfast, for some– was ready, and Kelly came back to remove the IV from Elle’s arm. Campbell looked away when he saw blood. Kelly muttered something to herself, but managed to get the site cleaned up and bandaged quick enough.  
  
“What now?” Harry asked. “Are we out of the woods?”  
  
“I hope so.”  
  
“And you don’t know what happened?”  
  
Kelly shook her head. “We’re working with a very limited pharmacy, a tiny lab, and outdated medical books, Harry. We’re just lucky no one died.” She rested her hand on Elle’s shoulder. “Not sure if there’ll be any long-term side effects, but I think you can go home now, if you want to.”  
  
“I wanna go,” Elle mumbled.  
  
“Alright. Let’s get you up, then.”  
  
Harry held out his arm as Elle got out of bed, and together, they headed towards the exit. She was wobbly on her feet, and she couldn’t walk too far without needing to pause and catch her breath, but she was walking.   
  
Campbell lingered behind, catching Gordie’s attention. “Hey. I just wanted to say thank you for helping her.”   
  
“It’s our job to keep the town safe,” Gordie answered. “Make sure she drinks water. Whatever this is, she’ll heal faster if she stays hydrated. No more than a liter per hour.”  
  
Without waiting for a reply, Gordie moved on to the next patient.   
  
Campbell shrugged it off, and joined Harry and Elle. Harry stopped to pass Elle off to Campbell; Elle accepted Campbell’s support, but she kept as far away from him as possible. When Harry came back with the car, they both helped her in. Harry glanced at him, waiting for him to get in the back with Elle, but Campbell shook his head. Sighing, Harry tossed the keys to Campbell. Campbell slid into the driver seat and clenched his fingers around the wheel. He focused his eyes on the road, tried to remember to breath, and shoved every thought down as far as possible. They had to get home. They had to make sure Elle rested and recovered.  
  
Campbell got her up the stairs, and into her own room. Elle pulled away from him and stumbled towards the bed, yanking her clothes off and tossing them to the floor. “Do you want me to get you something?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Kelly getting in that IV was pretty badass,” he tried as she climbed into bed. Maybe saying something nice about someone would help? Talking about it? Isn’t that what people did following something traumatic? He had no idea. Elle didn’t answer. She just crawled into bed. “Can I get you some water? I’m supposed to make sure you drink water.”  
  
“No. Sleep.”  
  
Campbell hesitated. She was only a few feet away, but it might as well have been miles. He shook his head and left, going back downstairs and sitting in the living room with the lights still off and the curtains still closed. Harry eventually came in with something for them to eat, but Campbell ignored the food. He didn’t feel hungry.   
  
“C'mon,” Harry said softly. “You gotta eat.”  
  
“I don’t gotta do anything.”  
  
For a long time, Harry didn’t say anything. Eventually, he set whatever it was aside, reached out, and laid down on the sofa next to Campbell. “I know it hurts.” His head rested on Campbell’s leg. “I didn’t realize it before. How much I care about her, too.”  
  
“She’s gonna leave, you know.”  
  
“Yeah. I know.”  
  
Harry held still as Campbell stroked his hair. It was a small, minuscule comfort. When everything was going to hell, at least it still seemed like they were each other’s emotional support humans, Campbell thought with a wry smile. Yet, it did hurt. Campbell had always thought that seeing it coming would make it easier, but it didn’t. In the end, it was all the same. He’d failed. As a partner, as a person. He’d made too many mistakes and hadn’t done enough to correct them. On one hand, he wanted to say fuck it. Hadn’t he done his best? To hell with anyone if it wasn’t good enough. On the other hand, he knew how everything looked, and that he had just enough blood on his hands to make it seem credible. That was his fault.  
  
They hadn’t even been together that long of a time, but they’d been through so much together, and she was the first person Campbell had ever actually been with. He loved her, and it was such a shitty, terrible fucking way for it to end. The little flame of hope he’d carried with him had snuffed out in that hospital room. And regardless, once his brain and it’s crossed-up wires decided that someone didn’t want to be around him, that was it; it flipped a switch that was hard to flip back, even in the best of situations. All that was left was to just deal with it, but…  
  
 _Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it._  
  
Once she felt a little better, he determined. He’d help her find a new place to go, if that was what she really wanted. Hell, it was for the best even if it wasn’t what she wanted. He’d let her see parts of him that weren’t pretty, and it was too much. It wasn’t Becca or Helena or Elle’s fault. It was just an unfortunate truth.   
  
But then there was a knock on the door the next morning, and when Campbell opened the door, he was face to face with a reality he hadn’t expected. Luke, looking grim, with Will behind him.   
  
“Can we come in?” Luke asked. “It’s about yesterday.”  
  
Campbell stepped aside to let them through. “Yeah, I guess. What’s going on?”  
  
“Can you get Elle and Harry, too?”  
  
“Luke, Elle’s sleeping. I can’t–”  
  
Will cut in. “Please. It’s important.”  
  
Shit. Campbell rubbed his face. He was willing to piss off Luke, but Will was another story. “Alright. Fine.” Luckily, Elle was awake enough, and Harry was already chatting Luke up by the time they got back downstairs. “So, you were just about to explain.”  
  
“We just wanted to go to everyone who cooked at home and ask some questions,” Will said. He seemed calm, but his eyes were worried. Something wasn’t right. “To see if we can figure out what happened last night.”  
  
“Alright, well, we don’t have anything to hide.”  
  
“You checked out food to cook at home. What did you bring to the church?”  
  
Elle leaned against the counter, her arms crossed tight in front of her. She looked small in her big maroon bathrobe. Frail. “It was just a pumpkin pie. Nothing special.”  
  
“You make it yourself?”  
  
“I did.”  
  
Luke turned his gaze to Campbell. “Your boyfriend didn’t help you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Did Harry?”  
  
“No! I said I made it myself.”  
  
Campbell eyed Elle. She was still pale, and obviously uncomfortable. It was a useless waste of her energy, to drag her out of bed. “Why are you doing this? Why the interrogation?”   
  
“Because people got sick. Will and I are just trying to figure out how.”  
  
“Okay, so they got food poisoning. Is that a crime?”  
  
Luke exchanged a glance with Will, who shrugged. “It’s not just normal food poisoning.” He looked back to Campbell. “Alright? We think somebody put poison in a dish.”  
  
Poison. Harry, who had been silent the whole time, sat down hard on a kitchen stool. “Are you serious? Like, to try and kill people?”  
  
“What did you put in the pie, Elle?” Will asked.  
  
It clicked then, as sure as anything ever had before.  
  
Campbell turned to Elle, studying her every little expression. It made sense, terrible sense, all of it. Elle’s evasion and then sudden interest in working things out. Suggesting they should stay home, just the two of them, and her freaking out when Campbell wanted to go to the church with the pie. Her trying to eat as much of it as possible, so no one else got to it. Fuck, her talking to Becca. To warn her, no doubt. To protect the baby. Why she acted so strange at the hospital, and was so defensive under questioning.  
  
It was Elle. Elle had poisoned the pie.  
  
Her eyes darted over to Campbell, then between Will and Luke. “Condensed milk, pumpkin, spices, eggs.” There it was again, that quick look at Campbell. Afraid. She was afraid. “It was just a frozen crust.”  
  
Luke nodded. “Can we take a look around?”  
  
“Uhhuh,” Campbell volunteered, before Elle could respond. “Go ahead.”  
  
He wanted to see her face. He wanted to watch her eyes, the way she looked and breathed and moved, as Luke searched the kitchen. Campbell knew he was right. He felt it. Now, he just needed to confirm it. And Elle, Elle was the worst at lying. She would give it away without evening meaning to. Luke began to dig through the cupboard under the island. Nothing, not yet.  
  
Harry spoke up, his voice sharp. “This is fascist bullshit. Elle got sick. You think she poisoned herself?”  
  
“We’re just investigating,” Will replied. “No one’s blaming her. We’re talking to everyone, and just seeing what we can find out.”  
  
And then Luke opened the door to the cupboard under the sink, and Campbell saw it. There. A tension in Elle’s jaw, a slight lift of her shoulders. Impossible. Impossible, except her saw it there written all over her face. Campbell smiled and turned back to Will and Luke. “I had a big slice of the pie myself, before we got to the dinner. It was great, and besides a little vertigo from a sinus infection, I’m fine.” He reached out and picked up his allergy meds from the counter. “See?”  
  
Luke stood up and moved away from the cupboard, eyeing the meds. “Yeah, I see.”  
  
“I think you guys should be talking to someone else.”  
  
Elle let out a shuddering sigh, turning away from them and leaving the kitchen. “I’m going back to bed.”  
  
Campbell didn’t even really hear what was said between Harry, Luke, and Will after Elle left. He just looked out the window while his thoughts flew in every direction. Had it ben intentional? Of course it had. Had she intended to kill him, or just make him sick? But he’d seen how bad everyone had gotten ill with just a piece of the pie. If he’d eaten much more than that, he would have been more than just a little dizzy. Had he really been so bad? Campbell knew he’d been a dick, and he knew his outbursts– even if they were only directed at a wall or coffee cup or pillow– were scary. But had he really hurt her enough, that she’d decided to kill him for it?  
  
“Cam?”  
  
Harry’s voice brought Campbell back to the present. He blinked, turning to look at Harry. They were alone. Harry’s eyebrows were knit together, and he was searching Campbell’s face. Worried. Campbell walked to him and nuzzled his shoulder, speaking in barely a whisper. “I need you to go in your room, lock the door, and call Allie if I don’t come get you.”  
  
Thankfully, Harry didn’t question him. He just frowned and went to his room; a few moments after, Campbell could hear the lock click, and the sound of music. Good boy, Campbell thought grimly as he turned his gaze to the stairs. What was waiting up there for him? He had no clue, now. If Elle would use poison, would she wield a more direct weapon? Maybe not, but any animal would bite if put into a corner.   
  
Taking a breath, Campbell climbed up the stairs and stood in the door of Elle’s room.   
  
She was sitting on the bed with her back to him; she jumped when he hit a creaky spot on the floor. “You scared me.”  
  
“I always have, haven’t I?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Elle stood, keeping the bed between them as much as she could. It was so obvious, now. “Why are you staring at me?”  
  
Campbell stopped when he was just outside of arm’s reach. He tried to find some part of him that was tender towards her. She was frightened. Desperate. Knowing that still didn’t soften the sharp edge to his words when he spoke. “Will you tell me what you used?”  
  
“Used for what?”  
  
“You know for what. In the pie.”  
  
“I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
“Let’s not play this game, Elle. You tried to kill me.”  
  
Elle’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Campbell, please.” Elle sobbed as he took a step towards her, an instinctive move to try and comfort her, but there would be no comfort. She was shrinking back against the wall and shaking so hard that her teeth were chattering. “No. _No_.”  
  
“Come on, you…” Campbell resisted the urge to try and hold her, feeling sick at the terror in that single word. How had he created this? “Just admit it. I’m not going to do anything to you, babe. Just tell me what you did. That’s all I’m asking.”  
  
Swallowing hard, Elle met his gaze. She was crying, and her voice sounded so broken, but he managed to hear the single word she breathed out. “Antifreeze.”  
  
It was as if the room itself had been holding it’s breath, and with that confession, it exhaled. Campbell closed his eyes for a moment. Something like relief flooded him, but it was cold. It wasn’t soothing, but a severance of emotional attachment from ration. When he opened his eyes, it was like he was looking at a stranger. “You want to leave me? You want to get away? I get it.”  
  
“You don’t get it at all.”  
  
“Don’t I? You’re afraid of me. Everyone’s always afraid of me.”   
  
“You throw things and yell at people. You get into fights. I hear you killed Sam’s bird, and Charlie vanishes. There’s blood on your clothes. Then Becca tells me you raped her, and she’s pregnant.”   
  
“Elle, I didn’t fucking hurt Charlie or Becca!”  
  
“How can I believe you? Of course I was afraid! I’m _terrified_! What was I supposed to do?”  
  
Campbell waved his arm towards the door, struggling to keep himself from shouting. “You should have left! The door’s right fucking there!”  
  
“I didn’t feel like I could! I thought if I tried, that you’d… you’d…”  
  
“I’d what, Elle? Beg you to stay? Chase you down? Force you to come back?” When she didn’t answer, Campbell just chuckled a low, bitter laugh. “You know, I loved you because I thought maybe we were alike. No one else understood. Maybe that’s the problem. We’re too much alike.”  
  
Something shifted in Elle’s face. Her jaw clenched, and her gaze turned hard. “No. I’m nothing like you.”  
  
“Oh, my little poisoner.” Campbell managed a forced smile. He took in how she looked just then, and made sure to etch that hateful look into memory. It would be useful, when it was time to move on. “You have an hour to get out. See if I try to stop you.”  
  
Elle didn’t react. She just stared at him, then picked up her phone and texted someone. She didn’t speak as she began to gather up her things from the room. Ten minutes later, the front door opened, and there were steps on the stairs. Helena stepped into the room next to Campbell; she glanced at him, but didn’t say anything. She just moved past him and went to Elle, a couple of empty suitcases in hand.   
  
Campbell followed them until they were done packing, and out the door. Elle paused on the porch, looking back. Her eyes were red, but she was no longer crying. Good. Campbell slammed the door shut and locked it. He leaned his back against the door, sliding down it and sitting on the floor with a loud thump as his legs turned to jello. His heart was thrashing hard in his chest and suddenly everything felt lighter. Spinning.   
  
Gone. She was gone. That was it. Not with a bang, but a whimper.  
  
The door to Harry’s room clicked open. Of course Harry didn’t listen. No one ever movie– Fellowship of the Ring– and left the room, coming back ten minutes later with a large plate of pizza rolls. He flopped down next to Campbell, setting the food between them.  
  
The idea of eating made Campbell want to gag, so he watched the movie and ignored the smell of tomato sauce and cheese. For a time, anyways. Half an hour in, and Campbell found himself nibbling on a pizza roll. It didn’t feel real. It was cold and tasteless to him, but Harry wasn’t eating them either and Campbell didn’t want them to go to waste. Of course, halfway through, Harry began to munch on them too. How many times had he done that same trick, when Harry wouldn’t eat?  
  
When the first movie ended, Harry got up to put the second one on; at some point, Campbell found himself leaning against Harry again, closing his eyes and listening to the movie more than watching. When Campbell opened his eyes again, there was morning sunlight filtering through the window, and they were both twisted in that awkward fell-asleep-watching-tv position. He couldn’t move. He was tucked under Harry’s chin, with Harry’s arm curled around his waist. If he tried to wiggle loose, Harry would wake up, and…  
  
… And, what? What did it really matter? They hadn’t done anything. Even if they had, Campbell didn’t belong to anyone. Not anymore. The reminder was sharp in his chest. He had almost forgotten, for just a few moments. But then the events of the day before came rushing back in and suddenly Campbell needed to move. He needed to go take a shower, clean the house. Erase what he could.  
  
“Mmn?” Harry grunted as Campbell began to try and wiggle free. “Oh. Hold on.”  
  
Campbell rolled out of bed once Harry lifted his arm, heading upstairs to the bathroom and running a shower. He scrubbed every inch of skin he could, and part of him wanted to laugh over the sad irony. Last time he felt his skin crawling like this, it was after he’d had Cassandra’s blood on him, and Elle had been there to comfort him. Now, Elle was gone, and he wanted to wash away every atomic trace of her from his body.   
  
He threw on his favorite clothes– jeans, t-shirt, flannel– and combed his hair, shaved, and preened more than usual. Just because he felt like trash didn’t mean he had to look like it. Once he was done, he trotted down the stairs and headed to the kitchen. Campbell opened the cupboard under the sink. Sure enough, there was a large jug of antifreeze. He set it on the counter, inspecting it like maybe it would give him some sort of answers.  
  
“Cam? Are you okay?”  
  
Campbell didn’t speak at first. Harry’s voice was rough from sleep, but he said those words so softly that Campbell almost answered honestly. “You should go get breakfast, Harry. I’m gonna stay home and get some work here done.”  
  
“No. You were here for me when I needed you. I’m not leaving you here when you need me.”  
  
“I don’t…” Campbell faltered, an objection sticking on his tongue. Need. He didn’t need anyone. Still, the words wouldn’t go, not when Harry came up behind him and rested his cheek on Campbell’s shoulder. Prick. “I don’t want you making a big deal of it. I don’t even care.”  
  
“You’re a liar.”  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
It came out sharper than intended, but Harry didn’t even flinch. “Where do we go from here, then? What do we do?”  
  
Campbell snatched the antifreeze and turned, hurling it across the kitchen. It hit his mother’s china cabinet, shattering the glass and several dishes. “She poisoned the pie.” Campbell hadn’t intended to tell Harry, but it slipped out when he saw the questioning look in his eyes. “Elle put the antifreeze in the pie. That’s why she wanted to stay home. She was trying to poison me.”  
  
“But that’s…” Harry looked between him and the thick green syrup spilling out over the kitchen floor. He pressed a hand to his mouth. “Why? Why would she do that? She could have killed you.”

“Pretty sure that was the point.”

“Campbell, you have to tell Allie. That’s _attempted murder._ ”  
  
“Do you really want Elle put on trial? Do you want what happened to Dewey to happen to her?”  
  
The flash of hurt in Harry’s eyes said no, he didn’t. He moved to stroke Campbell’s cheek, but stopped himself just short. “I’ll stay home and help you clean up. Okay? Let me help.”  
  
Campbell was still shaking from anger, but managed to mutter an agreement. Well, fine, if Harry wanted to go hungry in order to clean up a mess that wasn’t even his, then that was his prerogative. They threw open the windows and got to work. Campbell cleaned up the chemical and the broken glass, chucking the fractured plates and cups into a box and throwing it all out the door. Harry helped him get the cabinet itself outside. Good riddance to the ugly piece of shit, anyways. Campbell mopped the floors, twice, to make sure it was safe. Harry, meanwhile, had washed all the blankets, sheets, pillows, everything. He’d also shut the door to Elle’s room. Or, what had been Elle’s room.   
  
It was noon when they were done. The house smelled of cold air and decaying leaves, with a wisp of cinnamon and clove from the hot apple cider Harry had brewed for them on the stove. They curled up on the sofa, both ignoring the texts they were getting on their phone. It was Gretchen asking where they were; they were late to work, and the text had turned vaguely threatening.   
  
“Fuck it,” Harry grumped. He was carefully avoiding any mention of Elle, thank fuck. “They haven’t changed the work lists in months. The church floors can handle not being swept for one day.”  
  
Campbell sipped his drink and rolled the situation over in his head. “I don’t get what Allie’s doing. I would have thought she’d fix it by now.”  
  
“Thought wrong, I guess.”  
  
He’d been opening his mouth to answer, but then Campbell’s phone dinged, and this time it was from Allie. “Speak of the devil. She’s called a town meeting for after lunch.”  
  
Harry sighed, but went and got dressed. Not that Campbell wanted to go, either. He already hated it, but now? He’d rather run over his own foot. It was interesting, though, that Allie was calling for a meeting when she’d been so sick herself. If it was something that couldn’t wait, what could it possibly be about? Curiosity drew Campbell in, even if he wanted to ignore the text.   
  
As it turned out, it was worth the effort.  
  
“I wanted to give you all an update on the incident that happened on Thanksgiving,” Allie said once everyone had settled down. She still looked pale, and a bit wobbly, but she sounded as cocksure as ever. “Based on the symptoms, we believe that a dish was intentionally poisoned.”  
  
People began shouting questions. One of Lexie’s crones spoke up through the frantic, shocked hubbub that rose from the crowd. “How do we know it was poison?”  
  
“We don’t know for sure.” Talking louder, it was easier then to hear in Allie’s voice a distinct, painful rasp. She wasn’t fully on the mend. Not yet. “We just, you know, we’ve ruled out any other possibilities and we’re trying not to take any chances.”  
  
“Yeah, no shit. But what the fuck are we gonna do about it now?”  
  
“From now on, no food cooked at home is allowed in any of the common areas. The safest place to eat is the cafeteria. We’re just trying to keep people from getting hurt without changing the way we live too much.”  
  
The loud roar faded into murmuring. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, but it meant no food sharing even between friends, not out in public. Inconvenient, but not inconvenient enough that Campbell felt like turning Elle in. Elle hadn’t turned herself in, either, obviously. They wouldn’t have all been there, otherwise. Besides. Allie hadn’t specified what poison. Did she not know? Or was she withholding that detail in case they discovered a suspect?   
  
“There’s one more thing,” Allie continued. “It’s been five months since my sister died. I know I’ve added so many rules, and I know I’m adding more right now. I’ve asked you to do so much. I just think that the person asking you to do all these things, asking you to grow our own food soon, should be given authority by you.”  
  
“What is she doing?” Harry whispered.  
  
Campbell narrowed his eyes. “Something really fucking foolish.”  
  
“I think that we should elect a mayor and four council members, that way it’s an odd number in case of any ties, and… I’m running for mayor. Anyone else who wants to run, just sign up. There’ll be an election in three weeks.”  
  
Everyone around them cheered, but Campbell just crossed his arms and leaned against the back of the pew. Was she serious? Her popularity was at an all-time low. People were angry and growing desperate. Of course, she made a good point. But now? Three weeks would put them out around Christmas time. Whoever got elected would have to try and get them all through winter. Not to mention, they would have to deal with whatever came of Grizz’s expedition. What if they never came back? What if they did, and they found something?   
  
Harry shook his head as the meeting ended and they went home. “She better hope that no one else decides to run. The last thing we need is some political bullshit.”  
  
“Of course someone else is going to run. People have been angry for a long time.”  
  
“But who?”   
  
“Don’t know. There’s a few people I can think of who would do a good job, sure, but none of them seem the type to rock the boat.”  
  
Will, Gordie, and Bean would all run for council before they’d run for mayor. Helena was too loyal to Allie. Blake and some of their friends from the LGBTQ community would do well, if they threw their hat into the ring, but would they upend leadership at a crucial point? If they thought Allie was leading them into disaster, yes. But she wasn’t. Campbell didn’t think Allie’s rule was effective, but he could agree that she wasn’t going to get them all killed over the winter. Or so he’d thought, before she’d announced the election. New, untested leaders? That could definitely get everyone killed, and Allie didn’t seem to see that.  
  
“I’ve heard that Gwen’s been irritated with Allie,” Harry pondered. “But she’s going to be on the expedition with Grizz.”  
  
“What’s Allie done to Gwen?”  
  
“I can’t think of anything.”  
  
Campbell went over the possibilities. “Maybe it has to do with Lexie. She’s been gunning for Allie’s head since Allie took over.”  
  
“True. She really fucked things up with that improv skit at Thanksgiving.”   
  
“But would she actually run?”  
  
“Who knows. Everyone’s going fucking batshit.”  
  
And that was true enough. This place was changing people. For the better, in Campbell’s case, or at least he thought so. Worse, in other cases. “We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”  
  
Harry frowned. Yeah, that’s what he was afraid of; Campbell understood the worry, but there was nothing that could be done until they had a better idea of what the town was up against. For all either of them knew, no one would challenge Allie at all, and hand-wringing would be a waste of energy.   
  
They were raking up the leaves in the yard before work when the sound of crunching leaves made Campbell stop. He turned, tilting his head as Grizz came jogging up. “Hey, Grizz. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”  
  
“Yeah, but uh…” Grizz’s eyes flicked over to Harry for a split second. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you have a second?”  
  
Campbell looked to Harry, who nodded and went inside. He would be glad for an excuse to get out of the cold. “What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  
  
Grizz studied the ground. “I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of Sam, while I’m gone. Especially if, I don’t know, if something happens.”  
  
“Yeah, of course.” Campbell wasn’t going to tell Grizz nothing would happen. They both knew there was a chance that Grizz wouldn’t come back. “I’ll check in on him.”  
  
“No, that’s not– It’s more than that. I need you to protect him.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“It’s this town. There’s something… When we first got here, there was some Bible verse on the church wall. You’ve been weighed and found wanting. Remember?”  
  
“I remember you asking if I did it, yeah.”  
  
Grizz began to pace a little. “There’s other stuff. Kelly was talking about some guy that showed up. Some guy named Pfeiffer.” He didn’t notice the way Campbell tensed. Pfeiffer. Campbell knew that name from the papers that he’d told Sam to destroy. “Did you know that Pfeiffer, it means piper in German?”   
  
“All names mean something. What about it?”  
  
“Like, the pied piper. Do you know that story?”   
  
“Yeah. The guy that uses his music to get rid of some rats.”  
  
“But that’s not the end of the story.” Grizz stopped and came closer to Campbell, but his gaze was focused over Campbell’s shoulder, distant and distracted. “See, that town has him get rid of a rat infestation, promising to pay him. The guy steals away all of the town’s kids because the parents didn’t pay him for his services.”  
  
Well, then. Campbell leaned against the side of the house, thinking over that information. It was too weird for it to be some coincidence. “That’s creepy.” He drummed his fingers along the handle of the rake. “You know, it’s also weird how that dog showed up, too. No one’s pets are here. Not even people’s fish or small animals. Nothing, but there’s some dog no one’s ever seen before now.”  
  
“Border collie. A herding dog.”   
  
The faraway sound in Grizz’s voice didn’t help Campbell’s unease. “So, what are we thinking? A parallel universe? We’re brought here by some pied piper person, and his dog’s been spying on us?”  
  
“It sounds ridiculous, when you put it that way.”  
  
“Doesn’t mean it’s wrong. What does this have to do with Sam, though?”  
  
“Nothing, everything, I fucking don’t know. There’s something wrong with this place, Campbell. Something besides a parallel universe. Something besides snakes and weird eclipses and people being weird. And now I have to go out there, and I’m scared.”  
  
Scared. Of what? Campbell reached out and put a hand on Grizz’s shoulder. Grizz jumped, his gaze meeting Campbell’s. “There’s something you’re not telling me.” Campbell realized that Grizz hadn’t just been staring over Campbell’s shoulder. He’d been staring at the woods. “You’ve seen it, too, haven’t you?”  
  
“I need to go.”  
  
“Grizz!”  
  
But Grizz had already pulled away, heading back towards the road. He paused at the edge of the yard, looking at Campbell with a hollow, haunted expression. “Whatever you do, Campbell, be careful. Please. Keep Sam close.”  
  
Campbell didn’t go after Grizz as he left.  
  
Instead, he dropped the rake and headed inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. He stared into space, his mind going back to the dark shape he saw in the woods the night the dog vanished. His mind also drifted to the other things he couldn’t explain. One instance in particular wouldn’t get out of his head.   
  
Suspicious, Campbell popped his head into the kitchen, where Harry was munching on stale cereal. “Hey, Harry?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“The night Elle… You know. Did you come upstairs and check on me?”  
  
Harry shook his head. “No. Why?”  
  
“Nothing. I must have been dreaming.”  
  
Turning, Campbell sped upstairs without further explanation, looking around his room as if there would be some clue there. Of course there wasn’t, but what was there was a book on occult shit that Cassandra had given him after she’d done a paper on alternative religions. He cracked open the book and began to scan the pages, hunting. Gordie had his explanation, and Campbell accepted it as much as anyone else did; it was science, even if it was a strange sort of science. It was scary enough as it was, without entertaining the supernatural.  
  
But, what if…?  
  
“Campbell?” Harry came up the stairs, stopping in the doorway. “What’s going on?”   
  
“Grizz was worried.”   
  
“Worried? About what?”  
  
Campbell sighed. “Promise not to laugh?”  
  
“Promise.”  
  
It took a while to explain, but Campbell told Harry everything. The church wall, the papers Sam had found, the bus driver, the things that Campbell had seen and heard, the fact that Allie had said she’d seen things, too. And now, Grizz, who had been too afraid to even say what he’d seen.   
  
At the end of it, Harry came over and sat down on the bed next to Campbell, eyes wide. “Are you sure you haven’t gone back on drugs?” Campbell shook his head, and Harry let out a shaking breath. “What the fuck are we dealing with, then? What the fuck does any of it mean?”  
  
“It means we’ve got bigger problems than the election.”


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Harry slept in Campbell’s bed.  
  
In the end, Campbell had found a whole lot of nothing, but it was enough to scare Harry and Campbell could admit that he didn’t feel like being alone. Campbell locked the bedroom door. Not that it’d matter if they were dealing with something paranormal, but Harry relaxed a touch. He huddled under the blankets and was snoring soon enough; Campbell stayed awake to keep reading.

Ghosts were often said to be stuck between one realm and another. What if it was just another strange kind of science? If New Ham existed in a parallel world, there had to be something in between their worlds. Maybe that’s where some people got stuck, and the afterlife was just some other parallel world. Maybe there was a grain of truth to all the spiritual, new age stuff. He wanted to brush it all off as bullshit, but he’d seen what he’d seen. Allie and Grizz, they’d experienced it, too. Had others?  
  
But that thing in the woods… that hadn’t been Cassandra. That was something else.  
  
Campbell closed the book and ran his fingers across it’s cover, thinking. He looked over at Harry, who was sleeping soundly. Elle was lost to him. He couldn’t protect her, even if he wanted to, but he could still protect Harry. And, like Grizz had suggested, maybe Sam. But what would he even tell Sam? Especially now that Sam was twisted up in the whole baby thing with Becca? There was no way in hell that Becca would trust Campbell, and it’s not like that would change if Campbell came charging in yelling about ghosts. And who would want to believe it, anyways? Everyone wanted to believe that Cassandra was gone, at rest, free from pain and suffering. He wanted to believe it, too. Fuck, Campbell still wasn’t convinced that was even what it was. It could be some sort of mass hallucination, for all he knew. Maybe if he could talk to Gordie…  
  
Laying down, Campbell closed his eyes and tried to calm down his brain. He’d go see Gordie in the morning. Surely, he or Bean would have some sort of insight.  
  
The morning brought sunlight, and the fears of the night before faded a bit in the cheery glow of day. Campbell didn’t feel rested at all, and his neck was sore from tossing and turning. Harry was already awake and putting tea on the stove when Campbell got dressed and went downstairs; judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he kept yawning, Harry hadn’t slept well, either. However tempted Campbell was to brush it all off as paranoia, one nervous glance from Harry was enough to remind Campbell that this wasn’t just about him.  
  
Other people were being affected, too, like it or not. This was Grizz. This was Allie. And if there was something going on, it could hurt Sam and Harry. Even if he didn’t give a shit what happened to the rest of the town, they were his family, and he wasn’t going to be some deadbeat like his parents had been. And if it were true that something was going on, he couldn’t just leave Cassandra’s spirit, or whatever the fuck it was, trapped like that. Not when she’d done so much to try and save him.  
  
“Are you going to work today?” Harry asked, pouring Campbell a cup and sliding it over. “It’s our first day back since Thanksgiving.”  
  
Campbell shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, life goes on.”  
  
“And the… whatever it is?”  
  
“We can’t hide in our here like sheep just because there could be a big bad wolf somewhere.”  
  
Harry sat next to him, their shoulders just barely touching as he leaned towards Campbell. Thankfully, he knew better than to try and small-talk for too long, and he wasn’t offended that Campbell didn’t immediately ask how he was doing. Campbell needed time to think. They just drank their tea together in peace, and Harry followed Campbell to the office where Gordie and Bean were conducting their research. Campbell had a speech prepared in his head, and a few back-up plans in case they tried to turn him away.  
  
Unfortunately, it was a waste of time. There was no one in the building except for the morning shift cleaning crew. Harry kicked at a pile of leaves as they stood on the building’s lawn. “Maybe they’re at Allie’s house still? It is kinda early.”  
  
“Maybe.” Campbell texted Sam to ask. “I just need to find them before Grizz leaves, in case I need someone to back me up.”  
  
“Do you really think they’re going to believe you?”  
  
“No. I barely believe any of it. But Grizz wouldn’t lie to me about this, and regardless of why or how it’s happening, people need to be aware of it.”  
  
“But it hasn’t really happened to anyone else, right? Just you and Allie, mostly?”  
  
“There’s no way of knowing for sure. Even if we ask, people can make shit up, or not want to say because they think people will assume they’re crazy.”  
  
Harry shook his head. “This is so fucked up.”  
  
Campbell’s phone dinged with a reply from Sam. _Gordie and Bean are at the school helping Grizz get ready. Why? What’s wrong?_ Shutting the phone, Campbell looked to Harry. “Looks like I’m heading to the school. You should go home. I don’t want to drag you all over creation.”  
  
“And leave you out here on your own, with some fucking smoke monster on the loose? No thanks.”  
  
“Suit yourself.”  
  
It wasn’t anything Campbell wanted to admit, but Harry being with him helped him relax, even if it was just a little. Every bad or strange thing that had happened to Campbell had happened when he was alone. It had a way of putting him off on the idea, regardless of the fact that it was his default preference. Elle was gone. Sam wasn’t going to leave Becca, even if the relationship between him and Campbell was on the mend. The only person who had kept coming back– who’d never really left– was Harry. There was no way in hell Campbell was going to jeopardize that by acting like some macho jerk.  
  
They were near the school when Campbell saw, out of the corner of his eye, Lexie. He almost kept walking, when he noticed she was crying, and intrigue made him pause. “Hey, Harry? Can you go ahead and see if you can find Gordie?”  
  
Harry frowned. He didn’t want to be alone, either, or leave Campbell, but there were other teens mulling around between them and the school. He wouldn’t quite be alone. “Alright. Text me when you’re coming over.”  
  
“Mhm.” Campbell watched as Harry wandered off, before approaching Lexie, who was curled up on a bench in a tight ball. “Lexie?”  
  
Sniffling, she jerked her head up. When she registered that it was him, she scowled. A warm welcome by her standards. “What the fuck do you want?”  
  
“To see if you’re okay.” He didn’t care. Not really. Still, it was strange behavior, considering Lexie was usually locked inside her own house. “What’s up?”  
  
“You don’t need to hear about it.”  
  
“Try me.”  
  
“Go to hell.”  
  
She was staring at him with an odd look in her eye. There was something in the way she held herself, the way she moved, that seemed familiar. Elle, Campbell realized. She’d given him that same infuriated, suspicious, wounded look. “Did someone hurt you?”  
  
“No. Not…” Lexie trailed off, her voice cracking. She wiped her eyes with her hands and let out a defeated exhale. “Allie had Clark and Jason bring me in for questioning after that fucking Thanksgiving thing. She wasn’t there. They wouldn’t go get her.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“I don’t know. Clark and Jason made me undress in front of them.”  
  
“Wait, what?”  
  
“I got my period and asked them to bring Allie, but they just, they just _stared_ at me.” Lexie sucked in a breath, trying to steady her voice. It didn’t work. A flash of pain came over her expression, and she began to cry again. “I tried to tell Allie, but she told me to… She said to _get over it_.”  
  
That made Campbell stand a little straighter. Thoughts of Gordie and everything else left his mind as he took in the information; there was no way that Allie could have– should have– let that slide among her law enforcement. As much as he despised Lexie, that was sexual assault. No one deserved that. “Lexie, do you want me to help you talk to someone else?”  
  
“Why? So they can humiliate me, too? No one cares, Campbell. That’s why I’m running for mayor. I’m gonna fucking make them care.”  
  
Before he could answer, Lexie stood up and pushed past him, heading towards her home. Not before he caught the look of absolute fury on her face, though. Oh, that wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. His mind briefly turned to Becca, and suddenly Campbell wondered. Did they have a serial predator in their midst? Even if not, the two were guilty of something heinous, and Allie had done nothing. Worse than nothing, in fact. She’d brushed Lexie off. Why? All over some asinine feud?  
  
That was bigger and more immediate of an issue than anything he’d planned to talk to Gordie about. Allie had shot herself in the goddamn foot, and now she had a traumatized, enraged woman coming for her throne, and at least two predatory fucks in her own ranks.  
  
 _I’m coming over_ , Campbell texted Harry. _Do you know where Allie is?_  
  
Harry’s reply was almost immediate. _She just left the gym._  
  
Campbell rushed to the school, taking the door closest to the gym and looking around. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but someone had to do something. Campbell heard footsteps, and he shot off after them; luckily, he caught a glance of familiar dirt blond hair, and he sped up to catch up to Allie as she was leaving the school.  
  
“Allie!” Campbell called out. “I need to talk to you.”  
  
Allie slowed, but she didn’t stop. “We don’t have much to talk about, do we?”  
  
“Actually, yeah, we do. I just saw Lexie, and she’s majorly fucked up about this shit with the guard. Did you really tell her to get over it?”  
  
“I did. So what?”  
  
“Are you hearing yourself? You have an election coming up. This isn’t a good look.”  
  
“She was a suspect. She was questioned, and refused to cooperate.” Allie shrugged. “Yeah, the guard were jerks, but we were dealing with poison. It’s not like they did anything.”  
  
Campbell wanted to scream at her, but that would get nowhere. “Clark and Jason victimized Lexie. You revictimized her. She isn’t going to forget that.” When Allie didn’t respond, Campbell stepped in front of her and cut her off, forcing her to look at him. “Allie, you can’t let the guard do whatever they want without consequence. First Clark beat Dewey, now this?”  
  
“Since when did you become some paragon of virtue?”  
  
“I’m trying to help you.”  
  
“I don’t want or need it.” Allie raised her eyebrow and gave him a saccharine smile. Her tone was innocent, but there was nothing innocent about her words. “Maybe you should focus on getting your own house in order, Campbell.”  
  
Campbell clenched his teeth to keep himself from answering. Whatever good will he’d come to her with, it had gone up in a flash; turning, Campbell stormed off to find Harry and think about the next move. There was no way in hell he was going to deal with Allie and her goon squad, or watch Lexie burn the town down out of revenge.  
  
“I couldn’t find Gordie or Bean,” Harry said as Campbell entered the gym. It was empty besides them and a few people shooting hoops. “Grizz and the others were already gone by the time I got here.”  
  
“That’s fine. We’ll catch them later, when the town sees Grizz’s crew off. C'mon.”  
  
“Where are we going? Campbell?”  
  
Campbell didn’t answer. He barely heard Harry, his mind galloping at full tilt as he headed towards the church. Harry had caught up to him and was following at his heel, but he made a low, suspicious sound as Campbell approached the sign-up sheet for the elections. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone else around.  
  
There weren’t many names on the sign up sheet for council, and even fewer for mayor. Lexie hadn’t added her name to the list yet, but it was only a matter of time. Campbell picked up the pen, a plan already forming in his head. It wouldn’t be easy, but Harry was well-known and even when people hated him, they fell in line behind him; he was still the guy who almost won school president and had held his own in a debate with Cassandra. He was a pretty face, and likeable when he wasn’t drunk.  
  
Campbell had never been the type to try and take control of anything. Too much effort. But this time, this time things were different. If Campbell was feeding him ideas and instructions, who would really know? He handed the pen to Harry. “Sign up for mayor.”  
  
“You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”  
  
“Look, there’s a lot of shit going down, and I don’t know who to trust to handle this besides you and me, and even that’s shaky. Okay? I’ll explain later.”  
  
“I don’t… I’m not ready for this.”  
  
“We don’t have a lot of time if we’re gonna pull this off, so let’s just skip this part and get to the part where you just trust me.” Campbell lowered his voice into a growl when Harry took the pen, but still hesitated. “Unless you wanna be licking Allie’s boots forever, or trust Lexie to deal with whatever is happening, do it. Now.”  
  
“Okay, okay. Fuck.”  
  
Watching, Campbell felt a stab of victory as Harry pressed the pen to paper and signed his name. “There’s a debate in a week, and then two weeks of campaigning. We have to get you cleaned up and in fighting shape by then.”  
  
Harry said nothing. Not until they got to the coffee shop and settled inside. It was blissfully empty since Allie had declared it illegal to bring foods from home to shared spaces. It was still a quiet space, out of the way and bright. Cheerful. Harry’s mood was anything but, though. “Can you explain to me what the hell is happening? First this weird M Night Shyamalan crap, and now this? Is there something I missed?”  
  
“Lexie’s running for mayor.” Campbell perched on the coffee shop counter. “Allie’s guard perved on her, and she’s pissed because Allie’s not doing anything about it.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“From the improv’s mouth.”  
  
Running a hand through his hair, Harry frowned and dug around for his secret stash of coffee. “Okay. Well, that’s serious garbage, but why do we have to get involved in the race?”  
  
“Because we’re gonna have a shitstorm on our hands, otherwise. No one else is going to sign up, Harry. I damn near guarantee it. No one wants it. Hell, Allie never wanted the job, but she’s not gonna give it up now. Lexie’s right to be angry, but she just wants to oust Allie and punish the guard.”  
  
“Even if I could do better, do you really think I have a shot?”  
  
“I wouldn’t have pushed this if I didn’t think you did. You’re handsome, you’re charismatic when you’re sober, and people know who you are. If you let me help you, you can win this.”  
  
“Why don’t you run? It sounds like you’re the one who wants this.”  
  
“I’d never get elected. You know that.”  
  
Harry watched the coffee brew, the scent of dark roast filling the air. There was a smirk on his face, but the look in his eyes was almost sad. “And if I win, you can use me as your little, adoring puppet.”  
  
“What, that offends you?” Campbell stepped around the counter, gently tipping Harry’s chin to face him. “Look around. Do you like the way things are going? I don’t. Nothing is getting done. People are crammed together like sardines, the fake ass law enforcement is becoming untouchable, the work schedule is shit. Allie’s strong. She’s smart. But she isn’t listening, and she needs to be given a wake up call.”  
  
“And you have a plan. Naturally.”  
  
“Naturally. Do you trust me?”  
  
Sighing, Harry tilted his head so that he was nuzzling Campbell’s palm. “Of course I trust you. I love you.”  
  
The words struck harder than Campbell expected. It was all too tempting to say it back, but when he considered it, he felt a wall come up around himself. No. Not a good idea. “Then it’s easy. You used to run this town. Let me get you there again.”  
  
“Fine.” Harry’s lips were still brushing his skin. “But I want something in return.”  
  
Before Harry even said what it was, Campbell knew what Harry had in mind. It was written all over that marble statue face of his. He pulled back and moved to walk away. “No. That’s not how this is gonna work.”  
  
“It’s you and me against the world now, isn’t it? What are we waiting for?”  
  
“Things with Elle just–” Campbell hated the way that his words jumbled up in his mouth. Just what? Was it too soon? No. Campbell had always been attracted to Harry. He’d wanted to bring that up with Elle, but it had never been a good time. So, what was the problem, then? He closed his eyes a moment, collecting himself. “I’m never going to be normal. Fuck, I don’t even know if I really know what love is about. After all of that, I can’t afford to lose you, too.”  
  
“I’ve been waiting for you this whole time. Hell, since we first met. You get that, right? You’re not going to lose me.”  
  
“But what I am–”  
  
Harry caught up to him, stepping between him and the door. A dangerous play, but Harry brushed his fingers over Campbell’s cheek, and it soothed away some of the irritation in Campbell’s heart. “I know you, Cam. I know what you are. And I’m still here.”  
  
Their eyes met, and the urge Campbell had to shove Harry out of the way faded into a tired sort of melancholy. _We can’t_ , Campbell wanted to argue. _We shouldn’t_. Everything was a breath away from falling apart. They were in some strange world with something lurking in the woods, and an uncertain future looming ever closer. Campbell couldn’t promise Harry safety or stability. He couldn’t give it to Elle. He wouldn’t be able to give it to Harry. But, what if…  
  
Campbell let Harry pull him closer. What if they just… let it happen? He sighed as Harry curled against him, resting his cheek against the top of Harry’s head. God, when had Harry lost so much weight? He felt small in Campbell’s arms. Breakable. What if Campbell just let himself say _yes_? What if there was nothing later, or after, and this was all they would ever have? What if the world ended tomorrow, and they both faded to nothing, without having ever tried at all?  
  
“If you don’t want this,” Harry continued, his voice muffled as he mumbled into Campbell’s neck, “just tell me so I can give up and–”  
  
Campbell slipped his hand to the back of Harry’s head, tangling his fingers in that thick, soft hair and tugging. Harry tipped his head back, melting into Campbell’s hands as Campbell caught Harry’s lips. He kissed back, slowly, a small noise of pleasure in his throat. It was different this time. Warmer, lingering. This time, Harry didn’t pull away. They didn’t have to rush, and Campbell didn’t want to. Campbell curled his other arm around Harry and held him close, continuing to gently kiss Harry until they parted, breathless.  
  
“For the record,“ Campbell panted, "this is a bad idea.”  
  
A little sly smile danced across Harry’s lips. “Noted and promptly ignored.”  
  
Clearing his throat, Campbell moved away from Harry and closer again to the door. “We should go get ready for work, and figure out what we’re gonna tell Gordie and them.”  
  
“Yeah. That’s… Yeah, you’re right.”  
  
Harry sounded reluctant, but he followed the suggestion and went to the coffee pot, snagging sugar packets and creamers to mix them each a large cup. Campbell stared at the floor, waiting for his brain to recalibrate. The two of them. Together. Not just flirting, or even kissing, but together. Briefly, Campbell wondered if Harry had done something– said something– that contributed to Elle’s actions. Someone had to have planted the idea; murder was as much a part of Elle’s toolbox as selfless thought was a part of Campbell’s. Harry knew that people who betrayed Campbell’s hard-earned trust were swiftly kicked to the curb. But Harry missed Elle, too. He wasn’t happy to see her gone. He just didn’t want to be alone, and had been part of the secret bi-for-my-buddy club with Campbell for years.  
  
“Campbell?”  
  
Snapping out of his thoughts, Campbell looked up and accepted the coffee that Harry handed him. “Ready to go home?”  
  
The way Harry’s expression softened as he looked at Campbell was worth every ounce of doubt lingering in Campbell’s mind. “Let’s go to my mom’s place, first. I’ll go get my best clothes together and think of what angles we can attack Allie and Lexie’s campaigns. Time to start looking the part, right?”  
  
“That’s my boy.”  
  
Luckily, when they got to Harry’s old home, most people were out of the house. His room had been largely untouched; apparently Mickey and Dillon had taken up residence there, and made sure Harry’s stuff hadn’t been completely destroyed. They helped him pack up the rest of what he wanted, as well as a few of his mother and sister’s keepsakes, and take it all to the car. They gave Campbell and Harry a questioning glance, but Harry told them the room was theirs. That was enough to keep them happy and from asking questions. It wouldn’t keep people from getting curious forever, but they didn’t need forever. They just needed until after the election was over.  
  
There would be time to figure out what to do about everything, then. Too much time. Time to second guess, time to think too much about what he and Harry were doing, and what would happen when– inevitably– Kelly and Elle found out. When everyone found out. It was a vague comfort that Cassandra would have been pleased, probably. She had always known there was something a little friendlier than friendly going on between him and Harry, even though she herself professed to being oblivious to romance.  
  
 _Romance._  
  
Is that what they had now? Logically, Campbell could look back and see that, maybe, that was what they always had even if it was in disguised. They had always been intimate, in the sense of close. And while Campbell understood that anyone of any gender could have deep, strong relationships without them being romantic or sexual, well… it had been a handful of months since they first kissed. Longer still, since they had started flirting. But what did Harry want, exactly? What did Campbell want? And even though Campbell didn’t care what anyone else thought, he knew that if people found out they were together, Harry’s grab for power would be threatened. Bad enough that they were friends. Just because most people left Sam alone didn’t mean there wasn’t still an undercurrent of bigotry in their little town.  
  
It was tempting to bring up, but Campbell decided against it. Harry barely looked at Campbell when they passed each other during work, and now he still seemed lost in thought. Maybe Harry regretted it all already, or maybe he just was trying to give Campbell time to adjust; it hadn’t been that long since Elle had left. Maybe he was just worried they were all gonna get murdered by evil spirits or something. Whatever it was about, Campbell couldn’t shake the disquieted feeling in his chest. It was enough that Campbell could accept that the idea of going back to what they were before wasn’t possible.  
  
That night, Harry quietly joined Campbell in his bed again. Campbell didn’t comment on it. Whatever was happening between them, it felt new and delicate; he didn’t want to bruise it by talking too much about it, and it wasn’t like Campbell minded Harry being there. It was dark and he had gotten comfy when Harry shifted in the bed, pressing his back against Campbell’s chest. Campbell wound his arm around Harry’s waist, relaxing as their body heat warmed the bed and staving off the autumn chill.  
  
When Campbell woke up the next morning, he was more rested than he had been since Thanksgiving. Harry had tea ready, and Campbell was sure that Harry had a little more spring in his step, too. Still, Campbell didn’t want to let down his guard so soon. Harry said he knew what Campbell was like, but it would be different if they were together, wouldn’ it? But he didn’t resist Harry kissing his shoulder as they got dressed, and he couldn’t help but give Harry a small smile when, as they walked to the expedition send-off party, Harry smiled at him.  
  
It was seven o’ clock sharp. Will and the kitchen had brought breakfast sandwiches and weak instant coffee for everyone. People had made signs, some of the folks who had been cheerleaders back home were there with their pompoms, and a few band members were playing cheerful, rousing songs. It was a hamfisted attempt at boosting morale, for sure. The look on Grizz’s face said that he wasn’t buying it, but Campbell didn’t get a chance to talk to him; he dodged Campbell like a graceful opossum and hid among the crowd.  
  
He did, however, find Gordie.  
  
Gordie was flipping through some sort of print out, checking and rechecking whatever was on the page. He glanced up as Campbell wandered over, his posture immediately tensing. “Campbell. Can I help you?”  
  
“We’ll see. I’ve got a couple questions for you.”  
  
“Look, I’m busy. If this is about the election–”  
  
Campbell lifted his hands in a gesture of peace. “Slow your roll there, Geek Squad, it’s nothing about that. I just wanted to know if you or anyone else was having weird shit going on.”  
  
“Weird how?”  
  
“Seeing things in the woods.”  
  
Gordie paused mid page-turn, his eyes fixed on the paper. “You’ve been seeing things in the woods?”  
  
“Have you?”  
  
“What do you care? It’s probably just wild cats or bears. Whatever.”  
  
“I mean, those are concerning, too. But they don’t move like humans, or look like Cassandra.”  
  
A low blow, but it got Gordie to look at him again. Gordie set the paper down, a quick flash of pain in his eyes. “If this is some kind of sick joke, Campbell, I’m going to beat your fucking face in.”  
  
“I don’t joke about her, Gordie.”  
  
“I…” Rubbing his face with his hands, Gordie nodded towards a small area farther away from the crowd, and Campbell followed. He lowered his voice. “Grizz told Allie that he’d been seeing signs that something bad was coming. Allie brushed it off, but the last few months have been strange. Will says she’ll get up and go out onto the balcony or porch and just stare out there. Usually late at night, like she’s sleepwalking. We just assumed it was stress, but there was one night Will said he heard Allie mumble something about Cassandra.”  
  
Campbell too a mental measure of his metaphorical cards. How much did he want to show to Gordie? It was a risk, but so was not telling him. “I’ve been seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Hearing things, if I’m mostly asleep or out of it. I thought it was nothing, too, until Grizz came to me with the same speech. Probably because Allie didn’t believe him. I hate bringing this up to you, but if we’re in some weird parallel world, do you think it’s possible Cassandra got stuck between here and home or something?”  
  
“Shit. Campbell, I don’t–”  
  
“Gordie. You and Bean are the only ones here who really grasp this shit. Is it possible?”  
  
Gordie turned his eyes upward, blinking fast. “Okay. Okay, yeah. If people have some sort of energy that survives death somehow, and maybe it tries to return to the world it came from, sure. Maybe it can get stuck. That doesn’t mean it’s… that doesn’t mean it’s her.”  
  
“I’m not the sanest person here, buddy, but I’m telling you what I saw. Either that, or it’s something pretending to be her, and that sounds a lot, lot worse.”  
  
“What do you want me to do about it, Campbell?”  
  
“Do your science thing. Look into. And if you find anything, you need to convince Allie that something is going on. Especially if she’s been seeing things, too. Grizz says something bad is coming, and I’m worried this might be what he means.”  
  
“This is assuming I believe you.”  
  
“If you didn’t believe me a little bit, we wouldn’t be talking still.”  
  
Dropping his shoulders in defeat, Gordie sighed and kicked a rock towards the trees. “You do realize if this is happening, this is going to major. Like, world changing. Science and religion shaking.” When Campbell shrugged, Gordie sighed. “Okay. I’ll look into it, and see if Bean will help. Please, please don’t tell Allie I’m doing this.”  
  
“I won’t tell Allie if you keep me in the loop on what you find. Deal?”  
  
“Fine. Deal.” Campbell was moving back towards the crowd when Gordie called after him. “Speaking of Allie. What are you and Harry up to, anyways?”  
  
Campbell called back over his shoulder. “Make sure Allie does her job, and you won’t have to find out.”  
  
If Gordie said anything else, Campbell didn’t hear. The conversation had gone better than expected, and now it was over and done; Gordie hadn’t wanted to talk about the election, and Campbell didn’t, either. Not that Campbell believed that Gordie would tell him anything. Gordie was going to do what was best for Allie, just like the rest of them. If they did find something, Campbell was sure he’d find out about it the same way everyone else did– as a group, and likely entirely after things had already gone all American Horror Story.  
  
Harry was hanging out around the edge of the crowd, mingling with Elaine and Blake. His head was thrown back in a bright laugh, and Campbell felt his chest ache, but in a different way than before. Well, at least Harry was starting to get back into the swing of things. He would need to start charming people, and those two were a good start, since they were already friendly with Campbell.  
  
“So, your boy here’s running, huh?” Elaine asked Campbell as he got closer.  
  
“Yep,” Campbell replied, patting Harry on the back. “Might as well give the system a run for it’s money.”  
  
Blake ran their hand through their hair. “Good luck. I heard it’s going to be a bloodbath, once Lexie gets in.”  
  
Harry smiled. “Well, I hope I can count on you to hear me out at the debate. I think you’ll like some of the ideas I want to bring to the table. All voices here in New Ham deserve to be heard.”  
  
Smooth. Campbell waited until the other two peeled off to go talk to another group of friends before turning to Harry and leaning closer. “Look at you, being all Democratic.”  
  
“It’s true. I might be an out of touch douchebag, but people are feeling ignored.”  
  
“Wait until we get you all dolled up. Who’ll resist?”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Harry gently knocked into Campbell. “Whatever. Did you find… you know?”  
  
“One of them.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“He freaked out, but I think they’ll look into it. If not, I’ll have to myself.”  
  
Harry opened his mouth, but suddenly the band started up and drowned out whatever he was going to say. As if Campbell didn’t already know– it’s too dangerous, you don’t know what it is, what if you get hurt. All valid thoughts. But if one of the things he’d seen was Cassandra, who would she trust most? Either him, or Allie. She’d liked Gordie, Campbell was sure, but Campbell and Cassandra had been damn near brother and sister. If Gordie didn’t do as promised, Campbell would have to do something.  
  
But first, they had to see off the expedition. They were close enough that Campbell could give Grizz a quick wave; Grizz nodded back to him. Grizz looked like he wanted to throw up, but he kept walking anyways, and his four volunteers followed behind. Everyone cheered and there was a lot of hugging, crying, and well wishes. They all knew it could easily be a goodbye, if things went wrong. The expedition didn’t dawdle too much. Everyone stayed, the music still going and people still shouting encouragement, until the five could no longer be seen or heard. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse.  
  
The rest of the day felt like it droned on, with a somber cloud hanging overhead. People were on edge, checking their phones every so often as texts came in from the expedition. The plan was to keep in touch with town, until the signal dropped. Campbell hid the notifications. Whatever happened, happened. If something horrible went down, he’d hear about it from the others. There was nothing he could do in the meantime but work, and plan.  
  
One thing he didn’t plan for was Kelly.  
  
“Hey. Campbell.”  
  
Campbell paused as he raked the leaves in front of the church, smiling as politely as possible when he saw it was Kelly. “Hey there, stranger. How can I help you today?”  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“That depends on what you’re talking about.”  
  
Kelly pointed to the sign up sheet nearby. “That. The election for mayor, Campbell. What is Harry’s name doing up there?”  
  
“Well, duh, Harry wrote it there. Have you forgotten his handwriting already?”  
  
“On his own?” she demanded, ignoring the comment. “Or did you talk him into this?”  
  
“What do you care? The end result is all the same. He’s running.”  
  
“Campbell, the last I heard, he was having a hard time just getting to his usual work shifts. You can’t seriously believe he’s up for this.”  
  
“I’ll worry about that, Kelly. You don’t have to anymore.”  
  
Kelly jerked back like she’d been slapped. It was rude, but Campbell couldn’t find it in him to care. She was the one who’d left Harry, not the other way around, from what Harry said about it all. Of course Harry was a bit of an ass. Campbell knew that better than anyone. Even so, she’d made her choice and hadn’t looked back. So had Campbell, with Elle, but Harry was waking up in his bed now. Campbell didn’t need any other justification. Harry was, officially, his concern.  
  
“I can’t believe that,” Harry muttered when Campbell mentioned it later, at home. “She’s been ignoring me for months, and now she thinks she can just harass you over it?”  
  
“In her defense, I did strong-arm you into it.”  
  
“What else is new with us? I got what I wanted from it.”  
  
“Not having any second thoughts, then?”  
  
“Why would I?”  
  
“I don’t know. The two of you were together for a while. If she still cares–”  
  
Harry, drying the dishes while Campbell washed them, set down a bowl with a loud thump. His face was calm when he turned to Campbell, but there was something in his eyes that Campbell couldn’t quite figure out. “That doesn’t change how I feel about you. You know that, right?” When Campbell didn’t reply, Harry stepped into his space and gently turned him to face Harry. “Hey. Come here.”  
  
Campbell tried to resist. “Harry, I’m soapy.”  
  
But Harry kissed him anyways, and Campbell whimpered as Harry pressed him against the counter. His breathing hitched as Harry kissed along his jaw and down to his neck, his hands sliding just under Campbell’s shirt. “I want you,” Harry whispered against Campbell’s neck. “Tell me the truth. Do you want me?”  
  
Campbell closed his eyes. This wasn’t how he’d imagined the conversation going, but that warm touch and the way Harry’s hips felt against his was enough to crack the armor that Campbell had wrapped around his heart the day Elle left. “I do want you. That’s the truth.”  
  
“Then stop trying to push me away.”  
  
“Maybe I don’t know how to stop.”  
  
“Then I’ll just have to keep reminding you that you don’t have to.” Harry pressed one more kiss to the little dip just under Campbell’s ear. “Are we good?”  
  
Campbell let out the breath he’d been holding as Harry went back to work. “Yeah. We’re good.”  
  
It wasn’t until it was bedtime, when the lights were off and Harry wasn’t facing him, that Campbell felt like he could ask what had been gnawing at him since the beginning. “What are you expecting from me?” he asked quietly. “I just… I don’t know what you want.”  
  
Harry rolled over in bed, and Campbell felt his usual sense of confidence falter. The moonlight outside the window reflected off Harry’s eyes; the faint, affectionate smile on his lips eased Campbell’s anxiety. “You know, I wanted to ask you the same thing, but I was kind of scared to.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Me too, I guess. One of us had to crack eventually.”  
  
Chuckling, Harry moved closer, snuggling lightly against Campbell’s side. He went silent for a time, before speaking again, softer. “I want whatever you’re willing to give me. Even just this.”  
  
“You can’t possibly be happy with just this. I know you too well.”  
  
“I mean, I can’t say I haven’t thought about more.” His tone turned wistful. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like. Not with any other guy. Just with you.”  
  
More. Campbell rested his chin on the top of Harry’s head, running his fingers down Harry’s side until Harry relaxed into his arms. Elle was the only person Campbell had ever been with, but Campbell couldn’t lie and say there hadn’t been times he’d fantasized about Harry. Did he want that? Yes, he’d already decided. But was he ready? Elle had tried to kill him. The idea of opening up again, already, was difficult. But it was Harry. If there was anyone he trusted with his heart– truly trusted– it was Harry. And if Harry trusted Campbell, wanted Campbell that way, then he had a hard time seeing why he should say no.  
  
His touch eased down Harry’s side to his hip, tracing over the muscle and supple skin there. Harry shifted, enough to look up at Campbell from under his ridiculously thick eyelashes. He didn’t say anything or pull away. He just watched, eyelids fluttering when Campbell slid his fingernails lightly over bare skin. “Is this okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Harry murmured. “It feels good.”  
  
Campbell half-smiled. Beautiful. Not in the same way Elle had been beautiful, but in way that struck Campbell just as intensely. There had always been some part of Elle that had been unreachable, and he’d been attracted to that, but Harry was pressing into his touch like he was starving for it, and goddamn that fed some dark thing inside Campbell’s mind.  
  
After a moment, Harry reached out and tugged at Campbell’s shirt. A wordless request, and Campbell granted it; he took his shirt off, and Harry nuzzled Campbell’s chest, kissing along his collarbone. Campbell rolled onto his back as Harry gently pushed him down into the pillows. Beyond the lust of his lizard brain, Campbell knew they should be going slower, and that he should be checking if Harry was okay, but–  
  
“How far do you wanna go?” Harry asked, his lips brushing along the curve of Campbell’s ear. “It’s your call.”  
  
Fuck. Campbell shivered. “However far you wanna go.”  
  
Slowly, Harry straddled Campbell’s hips. Campbell briefly wondered how he compared to the others Harry had been with, until he saw Harry’s face. He was gazing down at Campbell with the same sort of desire that Campbell had always wanted to see there. Hell, Harry’s hands were shaking as he tried to unbutton his own shirt; Campbell rested his hands over Harry’s, stopping him, and taking over. Slipping the shirt over Harry’s shoulders, Campbell tugged it free from Harry’s body and tossed it to the floor.  
  
Harry leaned forward, meeting Campbell in a slow, deep kiss. The feeling of Harry over him– warm, vulnerable– felt like some sort of shield, brushing away the worries of everything beyond them. Safe. He was safe here, like this. Campbell relaxed and his lips parted; Harry’s tongue tentatively brushed against his. Winding his arms around Harry’s neck, Campbell pulled him closer, and their kiss turned harder.  
  
It wasn’t the only thing getting hard. Campbell rolled his hips, savoring the way Harry moaned into his mouth. It only took a few minutes to get Harry practically writhing. “Campbell, please,” he breathed. “Please.”  
  
“Shh. You don’t have to beg.” He dragged his nails down Harry’s shoulders, just enough to tingle. “Even if it’s hot.”  
  
The blush of color across Harry’s cheeks was worth the little scowl the comment earned him. Not that it lasted long. Campbell tugged Harry down onto the bed next to him; Harry let out a noise of surprise, which turned into a little whine as Campbell unbuttoned Harry’s jeans. He eased them off Harry’s hips, smiling at the way Harry’s breathing quickened. Campbell never really knew how he’d feel if he’d ever managed to get Harry naked in his bed, but seeing it then, it felt… natural. Like it just made sense.  
  
He must have been staring, because Harry’s voice turned teasing. “Like what you see?”  
  
Campbell didn’t speak. He just wanted to study Harry’s body for a moment. Memorize it. The way his ribs moved when he breathed, the little curve of his abdomen, the way his muscles twitched when Campbell trailed his fingers along Harry’s thigh. Harry was thicker than Campbell had imagined, and fuck, Campbell wanted to taste him.  
  
Moving between Harry’s legs, Campbell kissed Harry’s thigh, smiling inwardly as Harry squirmed. “Do you want this?”  
  
“Cam.”  
  
The whine of need in Harry’s voice said everything that needed to be said. Campbell stroked his fingertips along the underside of Harry’s cock, smirking when Harry arched from that alone. Poor love. Campbell slid his mouth over Harry, closing his eyes and taking the entire length in inch by inch; Harry’s hips bucked up, and Campbell didn’t make him wait any longer. It had been months for Harry, and his neglected body was already trembling under Campbell’s hands. Campbell sucked softly at first, slowly, picking up the pace when Harry’s hands sunk into Campbell’s hair, tugging. A silent way of pleading.  
  
It wasn’t long before Harry began to moan, his cock twitching against Campbell’s tongue. “Cam, I’m…”  
  
Campbell took Harry deeper. His throat squeezing around Harry as he came, crying out, and Campbell swallowed without hesitation. It stirred him, the idea of some part of Harry in him, and it was worth it to turn Harry into a gasping, sweating wreck. When he slinked back up to Harry’s side, Harry enfolded him in a tight embrace, his face buried against Campbell’s neck. He was still shaking; had Campbell done something wrong? But then Campbell could hear Harry whispering, almost inaudibly, _thank you thank you thank you_ and Campbell realized that Harry was just overwhelmed.  
  
All it took was a little cuddling, and petting along Harry’s spine, to bring him back to his senses. Harry loosened his hold on Campbell, his voice smoky as he nibbled Campbell’s earlobe. “Can I touch you, too?”  
  
Yes. Fuck yes. “You can.” Campbell fished the lube out from under his pillow, forgotten there from some late-night stress relief. “If you want to.”  
  
Harry took it and then paused, blinking at it, suddenly looking self-conscious as anything. “I do. I’m sorry if I don’t really know how…”  
  
“Hey.” Campbell kissed the crook of Harry’s neck as Harry trailed off. “Just think of what would feel good for you, and we’ll go from there.”  
  
Nodding, Harry slicked his hand with the lube, leaning in to kiss Campbell as his hand moved downward. Whatever worries Harry had been having were entirely unfounded; his touch was unsure at first, exploring, but Campbell could tell when it clicked in Harry’s brain. Campbell melted at the even strokes, the tightening and releasing of Harry’s grip. Harry was paying attention to the way Campbell breathed and the way his hips moved, his speed and the pressure increasing as Campbell began to peak, and oh god why hadn’t they just given in sooner?  
  
But then thought flew right out the window, because goddamn Harry circled his thumb directly over the head of Campbell’s cock, and everything turned into whited-out garbled nonsense. Even as his climax began to ebb away, there was still a haze of euphoria clouding Campbell’s mind. His lips seemed to part on their own, words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I love you.”  
  
Harry pulled back just enough to look Campbell in the eyes. He knew– because of course he knew– that Campbell was already starting to overthink. Panic. “I love you, too,” he said softly, nuzzling Campbell’s jaw. “I mean it.”  
  
 _I mean it._  
  
Those were the three words that lingered in Campbell’s mind as Harry got up, bringing back a towel and a couple bottled waters from the desk across the room. He focused on those words and the way the Harry’s eyes were brighter, more at peace, then before. It was a good thing. They were allowed to have something good. And by the time Harry’d helped Campbell clean up, and they were both decently rehydrated, the anxiety that had been bubbling to the surface had dissipated. It was easy for Campbell to catastrophize, but with Harry sleeping soundly in his arms, well, it was easier to allow himself his own moment of peace, too.  
  
Maybe they could survive all this.  
  
Maybe they could change things for the better.  
  
And maybe, maybe they really could be happy, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, all of you, for reading, commenting, and the kudos. It matters more than you know. <3
> 
> There is one. More. Part. It will be released early on [my tumblr](https://wroughtbetwixtfanfic.tumblr.com/), and here on the 12th. :D That will be the (current) conclusion for _A Gamble At Terrible Odds_. 
> 
> I hope to see you all there. Thank you again!


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